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strawberri-blonde · 11 months ago

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Yours to Command - Jacaerys Velaryon

Summary: you don’t tolerate disrespect towards your betrothed and in return he shows you how much he appreciates it.

Warning: smuttttt also I used an app for the Valyrian so if it’s wrong my bad.

Masterlist

“He’s nothing but a bastard-.” The Lord couldn’t even finish his sentence as you drew your sword, crafted from the finest steel, and slashed him across the face from ear to lip.

The room erupted in gasps of horror and surprise as you cut into the man’s flesh. The Lord had been boasting to your stepmother, Queen Rhaenyra, and your father, Daemon, about how you should marry his eldest son, dismissing Jacaerys as an option because of his infamous brown hair. What the Lord didn’t know was that you loved Jacaerys' distinguished curls and his soft brown eyes.

“Watch your tongue as you speak of my betrothed.” Your sharp words echoed throughout the large hall as crimson dripped onto the floor and you approached the fear-stricken man. “For not only is he someone I hold dear to my heart, but he is also your Prince of the Seven Kingdoms and wields a sword better than I.”

“Y/n, that’s enough.” Queen Rhaenyra’s voice cut through your enraged fog, and you felt a familiar pair of hands grip your waist.

You leaned into Jace’s grasp and turned to the queen, who didn’t look angry. Her eyes had a smugness to them, but her face remained professional. Your father, on the other hand, couldn’t contain his smirk, proud of his eldest daughter.

“My queen, I hold you in the highest respect,” you announced, bowing your head to her, then turned back to the crowd of men. “But I don’t tolerate disrespect towards my beloved.” Your eyes narrowed like a viper's with a sharp tongue. “Let this fool be my last warning to you all. As his wound scars over, I want you all to see what the least I can do, because next time I’ll take a note from my father's book and let you keep your tongue.”

The room remained still and quiet as you made sure to look every person in the eye, asserting your seriousness. “Jacaerys, please take your betrothed to her chambers, and we’ll discuss her actions,” she spoke mainly to you, but the sparkle in her eyes told you she wasn’t mad. She was proud that someone stood up for her firstborn.

Jace pressed you against his front, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his scent washing over you and soothing your rage. “Come, my love,” he whispered softly, his voice calming you, though your hard exterior remained unmoved. Keeping a death stare fixed on the bloody face of the Lord, you allowed Jace to lead you out of the council chamber with a gentle hand on your lower back.

As you both walked down the hallway, silence enveloped you, broken only by the clicking of your shoes against the stone floor. Finally, you let out a loud sigh, releasing your frustrations, and glanced up at Jace, who was walking to your right. His attention was already on you, his lips curled into a knowing smile. He was used to your angry outbursts, especially since he knew he was one of the few (besides your late mother) who could calm you.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly as you both continued the long walk to your wing where your and your sisters' rooms were. “I know you can handle it yourself.” Your blood boiled as you thought of the way the older men looked at him, trying to offer their puny excuse of sons your way. “If I offended you, I apologize.”

A chuckle escaped from the Prince's mouth, making you pause in your step. With quick movements, Jace gently pushed you against the wall between two columns and pressed a heated kiss to your lips. You gasped, and he bit down on your parted bottom lip. “Please never apologize for caring for me,” he murmured, his lips barely leaving yours as his eyes bore into your own. “It doesn’t offend me knowing I have a strong woman by my side, willing to cut anyone down for speaking ill of my name.” Jace kissed you again, and you pressed your hands on his chest, gripping the black tunic with gold embroidery sewn into the fabric.

He pulled away to mumble, “I’m proud to be yours. And I can’t wait until you’re my wife.” His words made you melt like butter because you couldn’t wait either. You smiled up at him with sultry eyes.

“I can’t wait to call you husband.” Jace smiled brightly, pressing you back in for a kiss, making both of you smile into the act like grinning fools.

The kiss brought on a sense of excitement that sent chills down your spine, and a soft, almost imperceptible moan escaped your lips when his hands began to caress your waist.

Hearing your soft moans, Jacaerys dragged his tongue along your full bottom lip, making you part your mouth and allowing his tongue to slip in. Your moans grew embarrassingly louder, but they only drove the prince to kiss you harder.

His hands lowered to your hips, and without warning, he picked you up and pinned you to the wall. Your dress slid up to your thighs, allowing you to lock your ankles together, pulling him close until his groin matched your own. The stone wall was cold against your back, but with your betrothed pressing you against his hard, hot body, you had no complaints. Instead, you arched your back, making his stiffness rub against your core, leaving you craving more of this. More of him.

You could feel Jacaerys breath catch in his throat at the feeling of your body against his, and a small growl escaped his lips as his hips began to grind into yours, and his grip on your hips tightened as his eyes met yours, filled with desire.

“Y/n…we shouldn’t be doing this,” He murmured, but his body continued to betray his words, pressing against you more firmly. “Anyone could see us…”

You slipped a hand behind his head as heat pool in your abdomen and you tugged on his curls making his close his eyes in a short bliss. Your lips curled as you pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth bucking your hips to add friction while your mouth trailed down to his neck pressing mouth open kissed to his pearly skin. “Ivestragī zirȳ ūndegon skoros nykeā sīr called bastard iksos capable hen.” Let them see what a so called bastard is capable of.

A low, almost guttural growl escaped from the Prince’s lips. “Hang va issa, beloved.” Jace secured his grip on you while your hands wrapped around his shoulders, fists clinging to his curls for dear life. “Open,” he commanded. If it were anyone but him or the queen, you would’ve laughed in their face, but for Jacaerys, you’d gladly walk off a cliff if he so desired. Hang on my beloved.

"I'm yours to command, my prince," you responded, your voice low and breathless. You parted your lips, but Jace couldn't help himself and pressed his open mouth to yours. With one hand, he raised your dress higher, his fingers slightly grazing your covered heat before ripping your stockings and excusing your cotton underwear.

When he pulled away, you immediately whimpered but were silenced by his pointer and middle finger shoving their way into your mouth. Your eyes widened at first, but as his brown eyes bore into yours, you began to suck his digits and even swirled your tongue around them. "By the gods, you’re perfect," he began. "And you’re all mine."

He slowly pulled his hand away from your mouth, making sure to caress your bottom lip. With haste, he reached under your bunched-up fabric to tease you slightly by gliding his soaked fingers against the already wet fabric of your undergarments.

"My Prince, please." Jace kissed your lips, hushing you as he pulled your coverings aside and pressed against your mound, sliding into your slick folds. He caressed you up and down, teasing your clit down to your entrance. "Gods."

Your head tilted back, hitting the stone wall in ecstasy as his rough fingers began to circle around your pearl. This wasn’t the first time Jace had touched you there. You both hadn’t been all that patient with waiting until you were wed, but as the honorable gentleman that he is, you hadn’t consummated anything because Jace really wanted to wait until the wedding night. However, that didn’t stop you both from getting your pleasure from other things. If it were up to you, the dragon rider would’ve already had the best ride of his life.

"Jace." You moaned out as he began the motion of figure eights, making your legs shake in delight.

"I love you like this, Princess." His hot breath hit your face as he leaned over you and kissed your parted lips. "When we wed, I plan on taking you in every nook and corner of this palace until you're full of my seed." Your cunt pooled at his words, and Jace could feel how wet you were becoming by the slushing sound his fingers made against your throbbing nerve. "You want that, my beloved?"

Loud moans spilled from your swollen lips as you helplessly nodded, knowing that if you didn’t respond in some way, he’d stop. “Yes,” you managed to get out as your abdomen tightened and your breath hitched, feeling that familiar, eye-blinding sensation start to form. “I can’t wait to be full of your children, letting everyone know what you did to me.” Jace kissed down your neck and sucked on that one spot that made you weak in the knees. “And I want them all to know how much I liked it.”

The prince sucked harder, and without realizing it, you began to yank at his curls, making his desire burn more intensely, especially as your moans increased and became shorter, signaling your very close end. “Cum syt issa, issa jorrāelagon milk issa fingers rūsīr aōha sweetness nyke jaelagon naejot ūndegon ao withering isse pleasure.” Cum for me, my love milk my fingers with your sweetness I want to see you withering in pleasure.

As his fingers continued their steady pace, rubbing against your clit, and his mouth worked against your neck, your body tensed in delight as your orgasm washed over you like a dragon's fire. No words left your parted lips, and you were grateful that Jace pressed his against yours in a kiss, because after that intense pleasure, you just wanted to be engulfed by nothing but him.

"I love you," you whimpered, making his boyish grin return to his face as he slightly pulled his head back to look at you. His hand slipped out from your undergarments, and he pulled your dress back down to cover your exposed thighs, keeping your skin hidden from view.

He sucked his fingers clean before he spoke. “Issa prūmia exists outside issa chest kesrio syt nyke’ve given ziry naejot ao se moment nyke tegon issa laesi va ao.” The brightest smile spread across your face, and as the two of you kissed, engrossed in the love surrounding you, someone clearing their throat made you both pull away like two deer caught by dogs. My heart exists outside my chest because I’ve given it to you the moment I land my eyes on you.

“Aōha valyrīha emagon gotten rōvēgrior, nephew.” Jace's face turned crimson from embarrassment, unlike the oversized pig of a man who had insulted him earlier, whose face was red with blood. Your Valyrian has gotten excellent, nephew.

You glared at your father, Daemon, as the prince carefully set you back on your feet and stood in front of you, nudging you behind him, between the columns. "But could you not corrupt my daughter before the wedding ceremony?" His knowing smirk could be seen over your beloved's shoulder, and he stood tall with his hands laced in front of him.

“Daemon-“ Jace began but your father raised a hand to stop him.

"Please just take her to her chambers before the Queen decides not to marry you a week from today." This news had you clenching Jace's hand, and he smiled down at you because the date hadn't been set yet. "And act surprised when she announces the news to you both, and please, no public displays of your love at least until after the wedding." Daemon shot them a sinful grin before nodding them off and walking past them.

"A week," you whispered with excitement, pulling Jacaerys into a loving kiss, which he returned with just as much enthusiasm. He grabbed your waist, began to pull you from the wall, and spun you around, making both of you laugh with joy.

Hoped you all enjoyed it’s been a while since I’ve written anything but I’m in my Jace era and I’m truthfully scared to be in it because I know my hearts going to be ripped out of my chest.

~ Caroline

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weneeya · 2 months ago

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falling for you m.list | rules

pairing. one piece x reader

characters. zoro, law, sanji, ace

note. i haven't write with those boys since so long but i'm so back in one piece so be ready to see them! please request with anyone from one piece <3

Zoro

you might be the only one not aware of what is going on between him and you

he doesn’t care much though, it’s fine by him to stay like this

he’s always keeping an eye on you during a fight, just to be sure

he knows you can defend yourself well, but he can’t help it

he lets you steal his food without arguing much, which is weird because he tries to kill Luffy each time he tries

the crew teases him about it but he brushes them off everytime

he’s a big shy boy, but he just doesn’t care if anyone knows about his feelings for you

he has a huge soft spot for you and he doesn’t even tries to hide it

there’s no real realization because he knows why he’s doing this

he would die for anyone in the crew, but he would definitely burn the world down if you asked him to

Law

realization hits HARD

he’s not the type to show a lot of emotion, at least he wasn’t until he began to travel with the strawhats

and you? you get him stressed

he didn’t realize it until robin pointed it to him

maybe she wasn’t wrong, but no way he would admit it like this

yes he lets you stay around him a lot, even allowing you to touch him without complaining too much

and yes you’re always stealing his coat when you’re cold and he doesn’t bother him

but falling for you? no way

he can’t be falling for someone, especially not you

yet, he can’t take the idea out of his mind since robin’s words

he notices the way you scrunch your nose when you smile

or how your face lights up at the idea of visiting a new island

you’re adorable, and his heart can’t take it

damn, maybe he’s down bad finally

Sanji

he loves women so much so his behavior isn’t questioned a lot at first

he’s a simp, it’s not weird that he’s treating you better than anyone else

until he began to prioritize you over everyone else

even the other girls

makes your favorite dessert all the time

even asks you what you want to eat and does his best to make it with what he have

nami is the first one to talk about it, and he feels his heart stop at the thought

is he really in love? like, real love

he’s a romantic guy, that’s it, he can’t be feeling those things

he can’t, right?

but the way you’re so gentle with him, never pushing him away when he treats you like the most precious thing on the sea

well, he realizes he might feel something more for you

Ace

the boy is blind, even more than you are

he’s naturally clingy and touchy with people, a joyful boy

yet, he seems worse with you

he always keeps an arm around your shoulder, talking you about his dear brother a lot

when he falls asleep out of nowhere, it’s usually on your shoulder or even falling on your back

the day he was drunk and put his hat on top of your head? everyone knew it was over

if anyone tries to tell him about it, he just stays with his eyes open wide in shock

he blinks a few times, slowly processing the words

a shrug of shoulders and he just accepts it like this

fine, perhaps he’s in love, but so what?

he doesn’t change anything, it just means he can be even closer to you than before

thank you!

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gtgbabie0 · 11 months ago

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Aegon Targaryen x Wife!reader

Synopsis: {The upcoming war has brought a great stress upon you which causes you to go into an early labour}

!CW!//blood, premature childbirth// Enjoy lovelies💕

The days following Aegon’s coronation were nothing short of exhausting, the mornings dragged and the nights were sleepless. The new king found himself in over his head with the only solace being you, someone who has stubbornly been there for him since childhood.

There was a familiarity to your warmth and kind words of encouragement, you were his only constant in a world of ever-changing conditions and he latched onto that never willing to let go. Always checking up on you and the babe inside your womb with worried eyes.

In turn, you had done the same, constantly seeking him out when horrible thoughts of the brewing war were all that plagued your mind, leaving you paranoid and constantly on edge.

You were each other’s anchors in ways that you both never thought possible.

The afternoon sun drips through the clouds, casting warm orangey rays through Kings Landing and across the Red Keep, bathing your shared bedchambers in a comforting light.

It is supposedly meant to be peaceful, or that is what Aegon thought when he practically demanded for you to stay in bed. Yet it has proven to be much more stressful, the books and cross-stitching doing nothing to distract your mind from what lingers over the horizon.

You have taken to pacing the length of the room, much to the dismay of your maids who watch on with panic in their eyes. A few of them had prompted you to sit down, trying to sway you with tea and sweet cakes but you waved them all off with a frown, desperately trying to ignore the dull pain that was beginning to grow in the small of your back.

You refuse to believe that your baby is arriving, it is far too early, yet you can hear the Maesters voice in the back of your mind telling you how ‘stress is not good for the babe’.

“Your grace, please take a seat.” The youngest of your maids try once more, daring to step forward to you with careful footing as if you were some sort of scared deer.

At her words you shake your head, turning your back to her with a small sigh, your fingers pressing against your lower spine and your other hand resting against the swell of your belly.

“Where is my husband?” You demand, turning back to face the women whose eyes never leave you.

“The King is attending a small council meeting, he shan’t be long, your grace.” Her words do nothing to calm the way your hands tremble nor the thoughts that race through your mind, despite how soft her tone is.

You purse your lips together tightly with a sharp inhale as shooting pain rips through your lower abdomen, causing you to hunch over slightly, grasping onto a chair for support.

You can hear the women behind gasp, saying something about blood but it all seems like distant noise almost as if you were underwater. There is little you can do but groan in pain, finally allowing your maids to guide you over to your bed.

You know something is deeply wrong, having already been through this once before. But that was extremely different, your mother was there even Aegon who stood speechless in the corner of the room with wide eyes… Gods you were both so young then, it seemed like a memory that wasn’t yours.

Now you are alone, save for the Maesters and Maids who are frantically trying to keep your temperature down with damp cloths, water dribbling down the side of your temples as you lay in fear.

You push yourself up onto your elbow, resting up on the mountain of pillows, letting out a strained cry at the feeling of an agonising pain that cramps up your abdomen causing you to fist the bedsheets beneath you.

The sound of your bedchamber doors slamming open catches your attention, but only for a brief moment before collapsing back down against the bed with a stomach-churning cry.

The staff around you don’t dear to try and turn Aegon away, especially when his eyes darken at the sight of the blood stains on your chemise and bedspread, a heavy look of terror masked behind an anger that sends a chill through the hot room.

“She is bleeding— why is she bleeding?!” He shouts, demanding an answer from the Maester who is trying to coax you to breathe deeply and then push.

His demands are met with silence before Orwyle steps away from the bed where you lay, squirming in pain. The maids and nurses all rush together, trying to guide your breathing through your clenched teeth.

“The babe is breeched your grace, coming feet first.” Maester Orwyle says, casting his eyes down to the floor with a troubled expression.

The sound of your agony echos within Aegon’s mind sending his thoughts spiralling far out of his control, the helplessness of it all eats away at him making his hands tremble with frustration that he can’t do anything to help you, to take you away from this damned situation. His eyes dart around the room in a panic, looking anywhere but at you as if he was trying to find a hidden answer to save you from this nightmare.

“Well, then why are you still standing here? Do something, help her!” He shouts, slamming his closed fists down upon the wooden table as he watches the Maester scurry back to the bed.

He stands there frozen, his breathing ragged suffocating on his own emotions. He wants the throw things, and curse the gods, the mother and the warrior because where is mercy and strength as you lay there in this torment?

“Aegon…” the sound of his name leaving you so weakly, the hushed word that is strained in desperation tumbling past your chapped lips hits him square in his chest, almost flooring him in shock.

His body moves on its own, practically collapsing onto the edge of the bed with his brows pinched together and his glossed-over eyes looking down at you. He wants to help you so bad but the only thing he can do is stroke your hair away from your sweaty forehead.

“Do not leave, stay here please,” you plead through gritted teeth, looking up at him through your bleary sight.

“I am staying… I’m right here.” He tells you firmly, the back of his fingers caressing your warm cheek gently. The cool metal of his rings keeps your eyes from falling close, fighting the fatigue.

He watches you intently, every twitch of your face only sends him further down into this maddening spiral of despair and frustration. “You’re doing so well… keep going.” He whispers, brushing his thumb over your hot cheek.

Aegon doesn’t move from his spot beside you, allowing your hands to tighten harshly around his own each time your body is wrecked by a contraction. He takes one of the damp rags from the maids, dabbing it against your chest and face in hopes of soothing you, even if it is only for a mere second because he cannot… he will not sit there doing nothing.

“We must sit her up,” Orwyle says through the sounds of your screams, resorting to the last possible option.

“What will that do if not cause her more pain?… I will not have her suffer more than she already is.” Aegon retorts with a deep frown, his words stern and laced with worry.

He was extremely stubborn and firm, even more so when the matter was about you. Never letting you leave from his side let alone out of his sight any longer than needed and even then he made sure at least one Kingsguard was standing behind you at all times.

“It is noted that movement helps set the babe correctly, your grace.” His words do very little to calm the maelstrom of dread that wraps around his heart and chokes him up. “Unless you wish to leave her in the hands of the gods…”

Aegon’s eyes meet your own for a very brief moment, the gods have already failed her, he thinks.

“No… no sit her up.” He agrees, looping his arm around your shoulders and pushing you upwards as you demand and scream for him to stop, fingers digging into his arms as you call his name weakly.

The hours that you were in labour for the Red Keep was still, silently waiting on bated breath for news of you and your babes' wellbeing. The echoes of your screams and pleas were the only thing that could be heard even from all the way down in the kitchens.

It was the hour of the owl when you finally made the final push, sinking back down against the pile of soft pillows. “Congratulations your grace… a boy,” Orwyle announces as your son wails making his presence well known. The maids swaddle your son up in a clean blanket before placing him gently upon your chest.

You take deep laboured breaths, your eyes heavy with exhaustion as you look down at your son. He was tinier than the twins when they were born, so much more delicate, his breathing weaker.

Aegon was completely stunned, he doesn't know what to say or do, instead, he simply watches you and the way cradle the baby’s head ever so gently, greeting him with a soft kiss on his forehead.

He had seen this before but yet he still feels as if his heart might just leap out of his chest. An overwhelming feeling of pride bursts through him leaving him all teary-eyed and soft smiles.

“He’s beautiful.” Aegon finally breaks his silence, his voice thick with indescribable emotions. The words don’t do your son justice, the little ball of pureness that is cuddled up against your chest. He can’t believe that something so precious… so innocent could be half him but the shape of his nose could attest that, he was Aegon’s.

You nod softly, brushing the back of your finger across his cheek as you admire him. The rest of the world seems to disappear, the maids cleaning up around you turn into white noise, and all you can focus on is your boy.

“Would you like to hold him?” You ask, voice a little hoarse from all the crying and screaming that was so worth it for the price of this feeling of contentment that has washed over you.

He holds back a sharp response that his hands were too rough, too clumsy. The last thing he wanted to was hurt him, he was already so tiny. You can see the look of trepidation that passes through his amethyst eyes, he was hesitant.

Your fingers slip between his own, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You won’t hurt him Aegon, I promise.” You tell him, melting away all of his persistent worries that had rooted themselves into his heart.

With a small, almost nervous, nod of his head, he pulls the sleeves of his tunic up to his elbows before you place the newborn babe in his arms, his heart stops for a small second, the breath in his lungs completely gone and all he can do is marvel down at his son.

“You’re amazing…” he whispers, voice steeped in reverence as he casts his gaze down to you as if you were some sort of deity to worship. You had nurtured a life and now here he is holding that very same life, it completely astonishes him.

You chuckle at his words, lifting your hand to rest against his cheek ever so gently. He leans into the warmth of your palm, pressing a soft kiss against your wrist. “He’s ours Aegon, yours and mine.” You remind him with a weak smile.

It’s a simple word, ours. But the way you say it with such emotion, with no hesitation, leaving no room for doubt to plague his heart made him happy. So happy.

“Ours,” Aegon repeats, brushing the back of his fingers across his son’s cheek ever so gently. “Maelor…” He smiles, testing the name softly before looking back down at you as you nod in agreement, repeating the name lovingly.

☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾

The following days were slow, quite a nice change of pace especially with everything that had been happening. You sit, leaning back against the velvet cushions of the chair, with Maelor in your arms as you wait for Aegon and the twins.

“Remember, you have to be gentle and quiet,” Aegon says, walking into the bedchambers with Jaehaerys and Jaehaera at either side of him.

They both let go of his hand before rushing over to you with wide curious eyes, looking down at their new sibling with excitement.

“Can he play with us in the garden?” Jaehaera smiles, looking up at you.

“Not just yet my sweet, he’s got a little growing to do before then.” You tell her softly, brushing her curls behind her ear.

“Am I allowed to read to him?” Jaehaerys asks next, his hand grasping the armchair as he leans over to look down at Maelor.

“Soon, let’s give him time to settle first.” He nods at your words and soon enough they’re both asking question after question.

Aegon stands behind you, his hands massaging your shoulders as you answer the twins with a patience he admires. The sight fills him with a sweet warmth that bleeds through him, his heart full of love. Perhaps the weight of the crown isn’t so bad if it’s for you four.

Dad Aegon as he deserves.

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minswriting · 3 months ago

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LEOTARDS AND STRETCHES - A.H x Reader

About: You’re a ballerina and Aaron visits you in the dance studio.

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, ballerina!reader, public sex, unprotected sex, p in v, aaron talks you through it, fluff and smut fr

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: Border is made by @esote-rika ! This one shot was a request from a LONG time ago and I finally got to writing it. It’s not the greatest but I hope you enjoy nonetheless! Not proof read because that’s for losers, obviously.

Being a ballerina, you were used to moving your body around in different ways, ensuring to captured the essence of the dance you were doing. Rigorous days of training, breaking into different point shoes every time you danced, and moving your body in such a way that you moved with fluidity was hard sometimes. And yet, other times it was great.

And here you were, in the studio, practicing a dance to Swan Lake. Your body moved smoothly as you allowed the music to guide you, dancing on your toes and doing crazy spins that no one outside of this profession would be able to do. And when the song finished, you heard the sound of clapping. You looked in the mirror of the studio, seeing your handsome boyfriend standing in the doorway.

“Aaron,” You grinned, turning around to face him.

“You were wonderful as always, my dear,” Aaron spoke in that soft tone that you adored so much as he had a smile on his face. He looked exhausted, as he usually does after coming back from a case. He walked over to you, placing his hands on your hips and kissing your lips in greeting which you happily kissed back.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, tilting your head. “You don’t usually visit me in the studio.”

Aaron hummed, nodding his head. “I tried to call but you weren’t answering your phone. We finished a case early and I figured I’d just come here instead,” he said, kissing your lips once more.

You let out a low chuckle against Aaron’s lips, putting your arms around Aaron’s neck. His grip on you tightened, pulling you closer to him. What was a seemingly innocent kiss quickly turned into something more passionate as the two of you moved in sync. Truth be told, it had been a bit since the two of you had seen one another and had been intimate with one another. With Aaron working crazy hours and you currently practicing for a performance, it’s been hard for your schedules to line up other than phone calls and FaceTime sex. And while phone sex is very hot with Aaron, you wholeheartedly missed the real thing.

Aaron pulled away from the kiss, moving his lips to your neck. “I’ve missed you,” he breathed against your skin, pressing himself against you.

You made a soft noise, your fingers moving to Aaron’s hair. “I’ve missed you too,” you murmured, tilting your head to give Aaron more access as you felt his erection pressing against your thigh. The two of you were needy for each other.

Aaron was careful not to mark you, keeping himself to only kissing your neck rather than nipping at it. You had a performance to get ready for, after all, and he didn’t want to hinder you in any way. “I want you,” he murmured.

“Then have me,” you replied.

And that’s how you ended up with your tights thrown somewhere in the room and your leotard pulled to the side with Aaron’s cock buried inside of you. You had one leg pointed upwards as your hand gripped the barre next to the mirror. Aaron had a hand on your hip, keeping you steady, while the other hand helped keep your leg up. Aaron’s pants were only opened enough for his cock to be free as he pounded into you.

The dance studio was filled with the sounds of your moans and slapping of skin. Luckily, you were the only person who had access to the studio this late otherwise, it would’ve been a wild scene for someone to stumble into. “Aaron,” you moaned as his cock plunged into you.

“My beautiful girl,” He groaned, thrusting his hips. “You feel so good wrapped around me.”

“Missed this so much,” You said shakily, eyes closing in pleasure.

“Me too, sweetheart,” Aaron replied, his breathing harsh.

After a few minutes, Aaron pulled out, causing you to whine from the loss of contact. But you knew it was simply due to him wanting to change positions. He helped you put your leg down before turning you around, tapping your other leg to go onto the barre and stretch out. Once you were in position, Aaron entered you once more, causing your breath to hitch.

The position allowed for a deeper penetration as his cock grazed your g-spot. Aaron gained a rhythm once more, fucking you faster and harder than before. “Oh fuck,” you whimpered, eyes fluttering shut from the pleasure of the new position. Your lips were parted in an “o” shape and your eyebrows furrowed.

Aaron groaned, pressing himself deep inside of you before pulling out and doing it again. “You’re so wet, sweetheart,” he said, licking his lips. He looked at you in the mirror, seeing the way your face contorted with pleasure. “Do you feel good, baby? Am I making you feel good?”

“Uh-huh,” you said, nodding your head. You opened your eyes to see Aaron already looking at you. “Feels so good, Aaron, oh my god.”

Aaron grunted, feeling the way your walls tightened around him, signaling that you were close. “My sweet girl,” he said, moving a bit faster. “You’re so close, aren’t you? Are you gonna cum for me?”

“Yes,” you let out a choked moan, feeling that familiar heat building inside of you. “I’m so close, Aaron.”

“Good girl,” Aaron cooed. “Go ahead and cum for me.”

The nickname was all you needed before you moaned loudly, clamping your walls around Aaron’s cock. Your body tensed as your orgasm washed over you, moaning Aaron’s name in a mantra. After only giving yourself orgasms for the last two weeks, being able to cum from Aaron’s cock alone was needed. Aaron followed suit, his hips stuttering and cock stiffening inside of you before he began filling you with his cum, pressing himself further in you.

And when the two of you were finished, Aaron pulled out, putting your leotard back into place before helping you out of the position you were in. The two of you were in a state of bliss, finally grateful to have had one another after what felt like so long. After a few minutes of heavy breathing and basking in the post-orgasmic feeling, you turned to look at Aaron, a goofy smile on your lips. “We just had sex in a dance studio,” you giggled.

Aaron laughed, nodding his head. “Indeed we did.”

After that, late night rendezvous to the dance studio after a case became more frequent for Aaron and you certainly didn’t mind at all.

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opentanie · 3 months ago

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Trying to find a way to fix SotR, a short essay by yours truly.

(Mind you, I'm still reading this book but it doesn't matter - we all know how it ends, not only due to reading Catching Fire, but also because this book is almost offensivly predictable in most aspects. So, these are not my final thoughts, but my proposition how the book could be improved in my humble opinion.)

First and foremost, don't make Haymitch a narrator, except for the epilogue. Because Haymitch brings nothing new to the table as POV: he's a boy from the Seam, half-orphan with one sibling who he loves very much or at least we're supposed to believe that because he struggles to find a fuck about anything else than Lenore Dove alas, all we've already seen. We know this perspective. Instead, give us two narrators: Maysilee Donner and Lenore Dove. One for describing the games from the inside, and give us a peek into Capitol 24 years prior to the og trilogy, and one to let us finally take a look into districts when the game is on. Especially since, as someone pointed out, 2nd Quarrel seems like a moment when the anger in districts started to slowly outweight the fear of Capitol - because this time they took almost fifty children, and it's both horrifying and, against Snow's wishes, makes them realize for the first time that the numbers are on their side, not their opressor's. This would also fix the problem of us not knowing much about Haymitch life before the games: because Lenore Dove is part of this life, so what would she do in this scenario? Try to help Abernathys by taking over some of Haymitch's duties in the household? Spent time with their mutual friends, when they're forced to watch the games, so at least they could have emotional support while doing so? Also, having Haymitch as the narrator of the epilogue, outliving both POVs who told the story of the quarrell, matches him being the only survivor of the arena.

Having Lenore Dove as POV could avoid adapting the Covey as some sort of noble savages, who live sort of outside the system, and are so much more aware than others. The Covey we know from TBOSAS are just a bunch of young people who were forced to live in one place, with no adults to take care of them, and by the end of that book they took another blow, losing their unofficial leader. Show us the real Covey, two middle aged, lonely men raising a girl, who clearly romanticizes Lucy Gray - which in itself tells us, how dear her memory is held. Seeing Lucy Gray through Lenore Dove's eyes could even serve as a good commentary on glorification and dehumanization of inspiring figures: something we can currently see with people thirsting over Luigi instead of focusing on his case, and even with the weird woobification some people do to Bisan ("if Bisan die, we riot" etc), as if she isn't reporting on mass genocide for people to focus on the entire situation, not her. It was something only briefly touched upon in the og trilogy, and it was seen from Katniss' perspective, when she was the subject of that, so, unlike what we actually got, it would be something new in SC's commentary.

Don't retcon Haymitch's personality. Let him be cocky and arrogant, it doesn't automatically mean he's a bad person. Hell, he was like that through three books and readers loved him, so it's not like it isn't even a safe option (and SotR chooses safe options for itsplot through and through). Moreover, it's a possibility for another commentary: sexism. Because Maysilee is rude and confident too, but she's treated like a bitch, while Haymitch is a loveable rascal. By keeping Haymitch's original personality, the book would allow them to be each other narrative mirrors - different backgrounds, different lives, but similar personalities. Show us both how differently they're treated back in D12, and how differently Capitol approaches them because of their gender, when they say similar things.

Bring Chaff in. If you don't remember, who Chaff is, don't worry - Suzanne Collins seems to forget as well! Anyways, Chaff is the victor of 45th Hunger Games, and Haymitch's friend, who lives in D11. He could be very easily vowed into the plot by assuming that usually every tribute has their own mentor, so D12 this year gets three: Mags, Wiress and Chaff (and none for Louella, as she still dies in this version before they arrive in the apartament). Not only for the development of his and Haymitch's relationship, but also to give his character some depth. I think Mags and Wiress' relationship with Loose Cannons was actually one of the bright points for the book, so Chaff having interactions with both LC and the other two mentors could work well.

Don't shy away from romance. Not because of fanservice reasons, but because it can compell the narrative and give the story another layer. With prequel like SotR you obviously need some parallels to the source material, but you can twist them - and Maysilee and Lenore Dove are perfect for that. Whether you like Gale or not, Lenore Dove is Gale of this story, even in the og book, no matter how SC avoids this comparison bc people don't like Gale. She already shares emotional connection with Haymitch, she lives life similar to his, she despises the merchant families from D12 (her constant criticisms of Maysilee...), she's open in her hatred for the Capitol - but in the end, all she could do in SotR was to sing some songs, unlike Gale, who was the first one to push for resistance in D12. So show Lenore Dove as this initially strong person, who gets challenged by reality, and it turns out that she isn't as tough as she thought of herself. On the opposite side we have Maysilee, or Peeta of this equation. A merchant kid, conventionally attractive (pale, blonde etc), with implied not-so-pleasant family life (her comment about her mother choosing clothes for her and her sister implies some sort of lack of control of her life even in her household) - but, unlike Peeta, she's angry. And she doesn't try to appeal to people, she bares her teeth at them, which they don't even expect of her, giving her proper looks and cool attitude. The romance doesn't have to be outright spelled out to readers, it can only be implied that Haymitch and Maysilee's trauma bonding is getting into territories dangerous for his relationship with Lenore Dove. Just don't throw that damn sibling line out of the blue and let readers decide for themselves, how they read it. Having said that, I believe that Snow would definitely frame this version of Haymitch and Maysilee as romantic to get on Lenore Dove's nerve, as in his head she's merely a Lucy Gray's proxy.

NO PLANNED RIOT PLOTLINE. We already had that in CF, and it clearly wasn't in Collins' head while writing about Haymitch's games in there for one obvious reason: Capitol would never let Mags or Wiress or Beetee live, if that was the case. Sure, those characters still should provide the tributes with some informations that would be useful later in the plot, but the entire idea of Newcomers is about these kids grasping the reality that they outnumber the enemy. Let them use this and decide to ruin the arena as the one last hurrah from them because they know they're going to die, so might as well show Capitol that they're here. That they matter. We had small act of defiance in the very first book with the berries, but everything after that was some sort of greater secret scheme - so let's go back to the roots, and let the tributes be the initiators. Let their riot inspire the rebellion, be the first spark and the start. Leave. The. Agency. To. The. Tributes. Bonus gain? Avoiding of accidental ableism by retconning Wiress' autism-coded behavior and Mags functioning despite implied stroke as the effects of Capitol torture. Not everything has to be the evil caused by the Capitol! Mags entire arc in Catching Fire was so moving and powerful because it was a woman so old, she couldn't even talk anymore, yet she still decided to save people.

ENOUGH OF THE DAMN RETCON JUST TO SHOW THAT EVERYONE ARE CONNECTED. Yeah, D12 is small, the Seam is even smaller, so it's obvious Burdock and Haymitch knew each other and were probably friendly, but WHAT IS THE POINT OF MAKING THEM SUPER BESTIES, WHEN HAYMITCH NEVER MENTIONED ANYTHING ABOUT IT IN THE OG BOOKS? While it's obvious that he could influence Katniss through that the moment he started to care about her winning? How come that Katniss never knew anything about the Covey, if it was still alive and well with her dad apparently having more than one Covey relative? (And how big is Covey anyways? I feel like SC doesn't know either). Just stop with the fanservice ffs. And yeah, Effie totally was in D12 for the last 24 years. Totally. Apparently, Katniss is just an idiot who doesn't understand what she sees.

While we're at it, stop making Capitol look stupid. I can buy Snow letting Haymitch live after the parade because he decided it's a better punishment to have him fear the unknown - but that's as far, as my suspension of disbelief can go. The Second Quarrell was supposed to be the biggest event ever held by Capitol until 75th games, yet there's a fuckup after fuckup. I know it's supposed to show us how neglected D12 is, but I think it could be done without making Snow look like a fucking idiot, who's apparently not feared enough by organizers, if they aren't afraid of screwing something up. That being said, the accident on the parade can still play out similarly to how it happened, simply because accidents happen, especially with 48 people in the chariots. I could make entire bulletpoint just about how badly Snow is written in this book for the sake of reminding people of Snowbaird, but not having Haymitch as POV during their encounter before introducing Lou Lou basically erases this problem. We still could see that Snow is not over Lucy Gray, and will be forever bitter about it without spelled it out in the most riddiculous way possible.

Remember the love triangle plot I proposed? It also helps with Haymitch as a middle-aged man still longing after his dead, teenage girlfriend. It's not romantic, it's creepy - and Suzanne Collins knows it too, because she makes sure to let readers know that he totally sees her in his imagination as if she grew old with him. While never letting that one teenage love go suits Snow, because he's an evil person who never develops emotionally, it doesn't suit Haymitch's characterization; moreover, it doesn't work as a narrative foil for Snowbaird, because Lenore Dove never decided to stay with Haymitch. She's dead, and it's not her ghost, only his fantasy of her. But where's Maysilee's place in all of this, if she's dead too? Well, that's kinda the point. Maysilee, the girl with whom he emotionally cheated with on his girlfriend, and also the first death for which he can blame himself. And when she dies, he promises himself that he'll never let Lenore Dove know the truth, that he will lie about what she saw on tv, especially after learning that Lenore Dove is the only one left for him, because his family is dead too - and then, Lenore Dove dies as well (in this version, still by Haymitch's unknowing hand, but I think it could be executed better), filling Haymitch with regret that he could neither stay loyal, nor save her. The geese metaphor would be fine, if SC did fact checking and knew that geese mourn for a long period of time but eventually can find another partner. Haymitch can still mourn the girl(s) he loved, but the period of mourning ends for him when the war ends, and there won't be any more dead girls like Maysilee and Lenore Dove. Of course, since I hate how Haymitch's entire mourning in the books was retconned into a single target, the girls are not the only ones he mourns, his family, Louella, Lou Lou, and the tributes from the next 23 years are also what haunts him - but his two love interests have a special place in the line because the regret of 'casuing' their deaths is mixed with personal regrets of very grounded teenage mistakes that couldn't reach any resolution. And when the war ends, the world in which his two biggest regrets died, ends as well, so he can finally heal with his family of choice: Katniss, Peeta, and Effie too (honestly, I think even SC believes that movies handled Effie better than her in Mockingjay). We don't need another romance in the epilogue, but we need the spark of hope that it can happen. Not necessarly with Effie, Asterid would be a reasonable narrative choice as well, but don't just leave this man who lived a lonely, miserable life still hanging onto his high school sweetheart. And, for the love of god, if you have to involve poetry, just don't choose the poem that tells you directly that he will never meet his lost love in the afterlife:

Even with all these changes, I think SotR would be a very unnecessary book, but miles more respectful for both the readers and the established characters.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk, I guess.

#anti sotr #sunrise of the reaping #sotr spoilers #haymitch abernathy #lenore dove baird #maysilee donner #haymitch x lenore dove #haymitch x maysilee #to write maybe?#who knows honestly

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shysuccubusstuff · 6 months ago

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Bodyguard! Mr. Scarlatella:

Content: Yandere! Mr. Scarlatella but he is actually human + assassin + farmer! scarlatella; non proof-reading; female anatomy + dubcon/noncon + kidnapping + usage of substances (once for the kidnapping) + mindbreak + lovesick! Mr. Scarlatella; cunnilingus + breeding kink + baby trapping + possessive! dom + overstimulation + orgasm denial + creampie + impregnation + trophy wife! reader (kind of?)

Summary: You never imagined that the guy that was about to end your father's and your life would end up falling head over feels for you, but hey, at least you're alive, right?...

Word count: 4240 words.

Note: I just hate how my brain decides to get dry af as soon as I end with my exams/essays... btw, Merry Christmas to everyone who reads this!! I'm thinking about making a kind of pt. 2 but with Mr. Crawling, let me know if you would want to read it!! It's weird to go back to the more dark stuff when I had started to write less heavy stuff... I feel I may have gotten a bit too creative for his personality, so let me know!!

Note 2: Let me know if any content tag is missing-- I wrote this over a whole week so I may have forgotten some...

You were the daughter of one of the wealthiest so it was only natural for you to live under the feeling of being targeted by someone, even since you were a child. So when your father presented a new bodyguard for you, it was nothing out of the ordinary, just some new guy who would probably quit by the month (at most). So he arrived, long black hair falling in a cascade and deep purplish pupils that pierced you through his polarised glasses.

"Dear, this is the new bodyguard, I hope you know how to behave yourself, I don't want to keep on complaining to that damn company, they keep saying it's your fault, but it's impossible for it to be solely your fault, I mean, it's been over 10 bodyguards in less than two months... Anyways, I have to leave, Daddy has some work to do." With that, your father left, his expensive cologne lingering in the air as he slammed the door, the new bodyguard still on the entrance of your room, a slightly unsettling smile creeping on his lips as he stood there.

"So you won't even introduce yourself? Seriously, the quality of that damn company is so freaking low... Can't believe they didn't even teach you how to introduce yourself." The man bowed a bit, taking a small notebook and giving it to you. "What the...? So you're saying that you're still learning the language and don't want to mess up? Ugh, ok, whatever. What's your name?" The man with crimson hair refused to speak, stating that he had not received a proper code name yet. "Seriously? Can't even call your name cause they didn't gave it to you, well that's just perfect. Don't bother me, just stand outside or whatever, as if I care." With those last words, the man left, finally leaving you alone in your room. "What the heck is wrong with that dude? I'm gonna complain to that fucking company of security, how am I supposed to trust him when I don't even know his name..."

As time went on, you were slowly able to get to know him, getting to know that he was actually coming from Japan because of some "old acquaintance" he knew since many years ago, that he loved magic tricks and that he was actually quite... cute. It hurt to even think it, but it was true, he was a cute man, always behind you when you allowed him, always running around you with your delicious drink ready and your purse hanging off his shoulder. God, he even learnt how to do your nails, makeup and hair in case you wanted to get it done on the days you were just too lazy to get out of the house... He was even there that night.

You had waken up by around three in the morning, making your way to your door so you could get something to eat in the kitchen, soon noticing that Scarlatella (as you liked to call him in a kind of playful way because of his hair colour) was nowhere to be seen, but hey, he was human as well, maybe he just went to the bathroom or something like that. As you were about to arrive to the kitchen, you noticed that the mansion was a bit too quiet, one would even say that it would have been possible to listen to a pin dropping to the marble ground. Unsettled, you quickly made your way to your father's bedroom, but you soon found out that the bed was completely cold. Now alarmed, you run to his studio, the sound of your feet resonating all over the empty corridor as you forced the door open, soon finding a terrible scene.

It was your father, well, what used to be your father, as his body was already turning cold, his skin turning slightly blue with clear signs of choking. Just as you were about to scream, your vocal cords were unable to produce a sound, your lungs being completely filled with a strange air that made you gasp for hair before you started to feel lightheaded. As you felt your conscience drift, you silently cursed that stupid company and that useless yet slightly charming man.

By the time you woke up, you soon noticed that your whole body was intact, expect for slight marks of rope on your wrists. As soon as you recovered a bit, you took a deep breath, deciding to try and scream to the top of your lungs in case someone could hear you.

"Hey! Someone there? Some crazy jackass has kidnapped me and---!" Suddenly, the heave iron door was opened, a familiar face entering the room.

"Good morning, dearest. I'm so glad you were finally able to open your eyes, you see, it was a bit difficult to get the amount of dose correctly, as I have never tried to keep someone as tiny and beautiful as yourself." Your old bodyguard entered, the heavy door closing behind him as he brought a tray on one of his hands. "Here, I brought you a few things I know you like." You looked at the delicious-looking food, your mouth watering as you saw all your favourite desserts, together with a bunch of your most beloved fruits. Despite the confusion, you tried to keep it together, looking to the other side and refusing to do what he asked. "Dearest, you've been asleep for over t--" Before he could end his sentence, you had already hit the tray with one of your legs, sending the appetizing food.

"Why the fuck are you here? You failed protecting me-- Fuck, you left my father to die, you're lucky I'm tied here cause I would crush your fucking skull with my---" The crimson-haired man got closer, dangerously close, in fact, his warm breath hitting against your face.

"Oh dear, I always knew you had quite the filthy mouth, but you must have been quite shocked to see that pig like that... I understand, I would never stop loving you for something trivial like that... Nor for anything, to be fair." His cold hands touched your face, the callouses in his hands making you frown even more than before.

"Listen fucker---." The man covered your mouth with his much larger hand, the shivers resulted from the cold shifting into goosebumps from the fear.

"Shh, dear. I understand, no need to explain it to me. I will make sure to re-educate you so you can go back to your natural self, that pig tricked your poor mind, but I will be able to fix it for you, see? I’m being such a good man for you, after all, I was supposed to kill you, but I even decided to turn my back to my client and let you live, I even avoided someone to think that you were alive. It was a bit of a hassle, but hey, I would do everything for you, dear.” The man finally got away from your face, taking the tray that had fallen to the ground because of you, together with the food that had been smashed to the ground. “It’s ok, dear. I understand this will take some time, luckily, I have all the time in the world, you just need some… hard love. I’m sure you will start to appreciate my company and care soon enough.” With that, the man smiled one last time to you, leaving the room with the sound of the heavy iron door closing, leaving you in the middle of the dark.

Since that moment, your slow torture started. The man left you in the dark for who knows how long, covering your eyes with a soft cloth, only taking out when he was around so he could start to… kind of associate him with the light, you supposed. He kept bringing you scrumptious plates, from your favourite foods to exotic ones. Of course, that was until the… maybe over tenth time you had throw his tray to the ground. That time, he simply took the tray, taking once again all the food on the floor and leaving in complete silence. The next time you was him was after… maybe one whole day? Your stomach kept rumbling, and what began as anger quickly became desperation, then crying and finally crying while screaming.

By around two months, your mind and body had become completely accustomed to his timetable and behaviour, letting him pet you as you ate what he brought, letting his hands clean your whole body and hair, not even complaining when you felt his hands drift towards your more private parts. Scarlatella looked extremely content with his work, rewarding you with constant praises and even a “pretty” collar for you. Despite it was a clear symbol of your turn into a kind of pet, the collar was beautiful, the gold glistening under the cold light as the beautiful charm with the form of a heart made a small noise of a bell each time you moved.

“Do you like it? I wanted something to congratulate you, after all, you have finally graduated. You are now back to your natural self.” You nodded, letting your head fall on his lap as he kept petting you. “I was thinking about giving you whatever you want, you can just ask.” He waited patiently until you were able to think about something other than the warmth that was coming from his body.

“…Freedom. I want to leave this room, please.” His eyes widened a bit, perhaps surprised that you were still able to think about your freedom.

“Dear, I know this can get suffocating, but you must stay here, it’s for your sa—”

“Please! I can feel my mind… slipping. This is getting worse each day, I… I don’t want do it, but the constant darkness is making me… think about… Just give me a bigger place, I don’t need something as fancy as my house, just something bigger than this room.” Scarlatella looked at you with a puzzled expression, his hand still massaging your scalp as he thought. Finally, he answered, not before letting a deep sigh.

“I suppose that’s fine. I can think of a story to explain your sudden appearance. Give me a few days so I can get everything ready, yeah? Promise I will do it.” As soon as he said that, he got up from the sofa that was in the room, quickly leaving the place before you were able to beg him to keep his promise.

Contrary to what you believed, Scarlatella kept his promise, coming back with a small suitcase and some clothes for you to change yourself, taking your hand as he made you walk with your eyes covered by that well-known cloth. When you were finally told to take it off, you were in the middle of a beautiful flower field. All the flowers were spider lilies, making it seem as if it was some kind of blood-filled battlefield.

“Do you like it, dear? I had to pay some money so they could build this house, together with planting these flowers.” He kept his grip around your wrist tight, not hurting you, but not letting go either. As he opened the door, you finally saw the house. It was a beautiful villa, completely decorated with cottage-like furniture.

“Yes, I like it.” Scarlatella smiled, a strange sheen in his gaze.

Soon, you realised why was he looking at you like that. You had fallen completely into his plan for turning you into his wife. He had created some complex story about you being his wife for over eight years, having to separate because you had been taking care of your sick father while he worked to the bone to get you as much as he could for the moment you came back to him. Everyone in the small hometown believed him, after all, he had been working there as farmer for quite some time, using it as a mere disguise so he could plan every little detail, creating a perfect façade so everyone would simply nod and smile to whatever he said. After that, your role became the one of a housewife, making you bake, cook, and clean, keeping the house warm and tidy by the time he arrived back home.

Soon, the days started to melt together, and your deep engraved hatred for him turned into a less bitter resentment. After all, he was the one that was providing for you, keeping you all warm and cozy while buying every single thing you asked him for, never doing anything that could hurt you. Slowly but surely, your mind started to reshape once again, now seeing him as a still intimidating, yet protecting figure. With that, it was finally the perfect ground for Scarlatella to create his perfect little wife.

Since that moment, Scarlatella started to become more physical with you, helping you around with all the cooking, “accidentally” rubbing his groin against your ass while he pretended to search for something on the top shelf. Not only that, but he made sure you could see him as a capable man, carrying the animals over his shoulder with ease, other times he was simply fixing stuff around the place. But the last moment he needed for your brain to start to see him as a possible partner was when you found him around town playing with the small children from the orphanage. He was surrounded by all of them, lifting them around and making them fly across the hair, his relaxed smile plastered on his face as he tried to make them control themselves as they waited their turn. Your eyes widened a bit, surprised to see him in such a… casual scene. So when he got back home, his working shirt slightly drenched because of the sudden rain that had started quite recently. The shirt was getting clung on his body, making his lean and muscular body stand out even further.

“Hey dear, how was your day? I hope it went great. Sorry I’m late, can’t believe I got caught in the middle of the rain while I was finishing some errands…” As he said that, he made his way around the kitchen, taking off his shirt and leaving it hanging on one of the chairs, surrounding your smaller frame with his arms. “I missed you so much, dear.” You tried your hardest to pretend not to notice, but of course you did, fuck, his groin was rubbing against your ass, and even then, it was clear that he was quite… gifted, down there. Still, you simply tightened the grip on the knife, biting your lips as you kept trying to focus on the food you were cooking.

Ever since that moment, you were no longer able to control yourself, always orbiting around him with your hand tightly wrapped around his arm every single time any other persons started to look way too affectionately at him. Scarlatella quickly noticed this, looking completely pleased with how he had been able to fix your precious little brain into a loving wife. In fact, he even started to pamper you even further, kissing your forehead every morning, asking you to let him shower together… Of course, you said yes.

So then, the two of you entered the bathroom, slowly undressing each other as the water started to warm up. “Love, you look so nice like this… All naked for me… I could just eat you up.” His hand drifted around your body, making your body shiver under his hands, and even if you were about to kiss him, he got away, extending his hand so he could help you get inside the bathtub. “Let me help you, dear.”

As the two of you finally entered the bathtub, he calmly traced your body with the sponge, making sure to scrub your skin without causing any type of harm. Then, he moved to your hair, taking the bottle of shampoo and scrubbing it while he hummed a little tune. Then, he focused on himself, redoing everything he had done to you. As he did that, your naked bodies kept pressing against each other, making you squirm at the slightest touch and forcing you to let small whimpers out every time you felt his lower half rub against your back. Finally, Scarlatella lost his composure as you kept pressing against him on purpose. “Dear… I have a feeling that you’ve been quite, eager to make our relationship more physical, am I right?” His eyes were now fixated on your face, making you feel even more flustered as you avoided his gaze. “Oh sweetheart, if you wanted that, I could have given it to you any time, after all, I do believe it is time we get to expand our little family.” And despite you would have normally shivered in disgust, this idea now started to charm you. So you nodded, accepting whatever he wanted you to do at that point. “Then we should get to business, let me get you ready love.” With that said, Scarlatella finally kissing your lips, his tongue entering your oral cavity as if he had been starving for a long time. “You taste so good… I could stay like this forever.” Scarlatella kept kissing you, his hands starting to glide towards your chest, starting to play with your nipples as his tongue kept exploring your mouth. “Dear… I think we should move to our bedroom; I don’t want your first time to hurt.”

“Oh, that’s fine, not like it’s my first time, you know, I did it a few times before you became my-.” Before you were able to finish your sentence, Scarlatella was already getting the two of you out of the bath, lifting you up and carrying you over to the bedroom he had been preparing for quite some time. Despite his gaze looked a bit crazed out, he let you down softly on the bed.

“It seems I was a bit too gentle with you, that was my fault. I suppose you must prefer someone meaner, treat you as if you were a little fuck toy, I suppose your brain is still not that adapted to having a husband, that’s ok, I will fix it.” With nothing left to say to you, he got on top of you, towering over your smaller body as he started to kiss your neck. “I just wish I could have arrived earlier… Get to be your first, let you make me yours…It’s a shame we had to meet under those circumstances.” And even regardless his almost apologising words, his actions were crude, clearly showing his uncontrollable desire to make you completely his. “… I should definitely get you pregnant, make sure everyone knows who your husband is, let’s see if any other fucker tries to get with my sweet wife.” As he kept mumbling to himself, his lips started to make a trail towards your chest, moving even further down as your moans got louder. Suddenly, he got away from you for a second, taking something from the small nightstand. Still quiet, he opened the small bottle, letting the sticky liquid help him prepare your pussy for him. “Not like you will need it, apparently you were more prepared than me.”

“Come on, it’s not like we are… fuck, I don’t know, it’s just, it’s not like you are a virgin, right? There’s no need for---”

“I am.” His hands stopped for a second, his fingers a few inches away from entering you. “I’ve been investigating so I could make it as comfortable for you as possible, but that’s ok, I will make sure our next time is perfect… Let’s just use this time for letting you know how this works.” Without further due, Scarlatella started to tease your entrance, rubbing his fingertips against your entrance, while his other hand started to move towards your weak spot, starting to tease your clit as he kept kissing your neck. As the minutes went on, you started to notice a weird warmth inside your cunt, making your tears swell up in your eyes as Scarlatella kept teasing you.

“Stop— Can’t—It feels weird, like really weird, it’s not normal!” Scarlatella smiled wickedly, his eyes darkening as he saw how your pussy kept releasing your sticky fluids, with no shame, he got his face closer, starting to leave kitty licks over your clit before he began to fuck your entrance with his tongue, making you cry due to the overstimulation as he kept stopping just before you could release. This torture kept going for a couple minutes, making you clench the sheets, biting your lips as you kept mumbling barely understandable words: “Please, please… Just—Please! Fuck, please, let me cum, please, please…” Your words kept slurring, making him smile at the beautiful portrait he had been able to turn your gorgeous face into, he caressed your face with one of his hands, his lips still curved into an amused look as your face had become a mixture of snot, tears, and saliva. Suddenly, you felt Scarlatella’s arms wrap around you, lifting you from the bed and letting you lay on his lap, his unclothed erection rubbing against your clit, rocking your body back and forth as he kept taunting you.

“I just can’t believe you preferred some random person over me, love. I’ve waiting for you my whole life, I even learnt all this… tricks to get you to feel as good as possible.” All of sudden, his tip went in, barely letting you get ready as he kept pushing it inside and out, making your eyes water as he kept tormenting you for a few minutes more, his gaze becoming more and more obscure as his erection just kept growing. “Fuck, whatever… I’ll just have to prove you that nobody will ever fuck you like I can, get you pregnant so you can only see me… love me…” His eyes lightened for a second just from the thought, and before you even noticed, your back was once again pressed against the mattress, with Scarlatella towering over you as he was finally able to gradually introduce his whole length, the stretch making you whine and cling to his back. “You feel so good around me, love… Just wait, I’ll fill you up, fill your pretty pussy with my cum so nobody ever tries to get too close to you—You’ll look so pretty with your tummy all round—” As Scarlatella’s hips started to punish your sore cunt, you were finally able to cum, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your legs locked around him, as a poor attempt on getting him to stop for a second.

“Wait—Too soon, I can’t get pregnant yet!” You pushed a bit against his lower abdomen, your hands barely stopping him as they kept shaking because of the constant orgasms that just kept pilling up, forcing your brain to become more and more fuzzy each time. It was then that Scarlatella wrapped his own hands around your waists, using them as mere handles for him to push the tip of his cock just a bit further, just enough for you to cum once more with a pathetic whine. Despite you had already cum all over him, Scarlatella’s thrusts didn’t slow down, if not growing stronger as his mind was already too far gone.

“Gotta get you pregnant—That’s all I need—Fill your pretty pussy with my cock and get you to- Fuck- cream all over my cock, that’s it baby… Cum all over your husband, make a mess on my cock, you’re doing so good love…” His words kept resonating in your mind, almost as if it was some kind of chant, and despite you tried your best to endure it, your brain gave up, after all, Scarlatella had been taking care of you so nicely… It wouldn’t hurt to let him keep doing it for the rest of his life… right? As Scarlatella kept muttering to himself, his cock was already twitching, signifying just how close he was to releasing his essence inside of you. With your mind now completely broken, you smiled, your arms and legs tightening around his waist as his cock kept hammering against your cervix, one of his hands carefully pressing against the lower half of your abdomen, causing the pleasure to just build up even further as he finally released his load inside of you, his constant groans now turning into soft praises and kisses. “You did so good, love… Let me take care of everything from now on, I will make you the happiest wife ever, no need to think about anything, just promise to tell me everything you need or want, yeah? I’ll be the best husband int the world.” His hands kept petting your hair as his cock started to deflate inside you, still remaining inside as he refused to pull out in case some of his essence spilled out. “Let’s wait a bit, love. I will prepare the bath in few minutes; I just want to make sure everything goes correctly.” He peppered a few kisses all over your face, his hand rubbing your tummy as he kept imagining that near future he had been longing for.

#fanfiction #x reader #smut #homicipher #homicipher headcanons #mr scarletta #mr scarletella #mr scarlatella x reader #mr scarletta x reader #mr scarletta smut #mr scarlatella smut #mr scarletta hc #mr scarlatella hc #homicipher smut #homicipher scarletella #homicipher x reader

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theartofwoompwoomps · 2 months ago

Text

Why me

ES Soundwave x human!reader

Summary: Ravage brings him a human to console him after the other cassettes left. (I haven’t watched earthspark lol)

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This had been going for awhile now.

Soundwave would ask him to wait a bit outside, then when allowed back in the whole room was turned upside down.

His boss never told him directly, but he didn’t need to for him to understand.

The cassettes leaving had a great impact in them. He could sense it. Especially whenever he’d lay next to him, Soundwave would caress him more affectionately. Almost as if he were afraid of losing him too.

He didn’t like seeing his boss like this. Nor was he used to it. At first, he was patient with him, understanding that Megatron’s betrayal and his cassettes leaving had wounded him deeply.

But,… it was starting to get overbearing.

His attention was always on him, if he needed anything, did something, or was with others.

But, He didn’t want to hurt him. So talking about it was out of the question. His boss’s state of mind wouldn’t take it the right way. That’s why he made sure to keep these thoughts deep away from him. Only allowing worry to be detectable.

~~~~~

Soundwave had a mission recently without him, and it was the perfect opportunity to execute his plan. Shockwave helped him as well.

He went down to the fleshy creatures land, where news wasn’t too popular, and where nature was abundant. Looking for someone who would need his bosses help.

Walking deeper through the woods, the fog kept blocking his eyesight, but he needed to get this human before soundwave got back.

Searching more frantically, rushing around, scaring many creatures in the process. He halted at what was in front of him.

A human.

They were on the ground. Not moving. No sound from them.

Creeping up to them he kneeled his head closer to listen, practically on top of their small chest, he finally heard it. A small pulse.

Taking you with the things you had in hand, he hurried back. Unaware of the dangers you had faced.

~~~~~~

Shockwave was displeased to see the state the human was in currently. Especially since they weren’t the most qualified for human care. But they did try their best at preparing a cube just for you.

It had some basic necessities, like a small bathroom, a mattress with a blanket, and a vending machine. Ravage hoped it’d be enough for now.

He did feel a bit bad for taking you, but this was necessary. Glancing your way to see how you were, he saw that your state hadn’t changed. You were still unconscious.

Feeling unease crawl through him doubts started arising. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken you. He didn’t even know if you could survive with them, but maybe that was the exact situation Soundwave needed.

It was too late for doubt anyway.

Picking you up gently with his denta, he placed you on his boss’s berth, then draped his own body on you. Almost as if he were spooning you in his own way.

Now he simply needed to wait.

~~~~~~

Soundwave had been on edge the whole time. He got the job done, but his mind was somewhere else.

Being without Ravage threw his emotions in a turmoil. He needed to get back. He had to go back.

Rushing back, not even glancing at anyone, he wad dead set on finding Ravage.

Heading first to his quarters, he opens the door quite loudly upon arriving. Only feeling himself relax when his optics found his dear cassette.

Walking towards him, he saw them on his berth waking from recharge.

He waited for Soundwave to sit next to him before revealing you. Not saying anything before getting up. Making sure you were in plain sight.

His boss simply stared down.

It was silent. Only your small breathes and the vents in their bodies making noise. The whole thing felt extremely heavy on him. Not daring to make a move or noise. Then Soundwave broke the silence.

“Ravage. Query: what is a human doing here.”

It was hard to tell what he was thinking, but he knew he was in trouble unless he started explaining. “well,.. I found them..and brought them… for you to keep them.”

Soundwave couldn’t believe it. Nor did he detect any lie. Why did his cassette even want him to have a human?

And as if the roles were reversed and Ravage could read his mind he continued explaining.

“They are a gift from me to you” lowering his head towards you then towards him. “So you have to take care of them.”

Soundwave was still processing the whole thing.

You were a gift? To take care of? His head filled with questions, logic and emotion battling inside.

But, Ravage took his silence as an invitation to place your small body on him. Leave his boss to figure things out on his own.

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Masterlist

#x reader #re upload #transformers x reader #transformers #tf earthspark #transformers earthspark #soundwave x reader #soundwave #tf x reader #tf es #transformers es

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amitiel-truth · 5 months ago

Text

River Maiden Pt. 9

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 10, Part 11,

(A/N: is Telephone technically a Monsterfucker in this story? I mean, Penelope's Half Nymph so he got it from Odysseus. : ))

"I don't know what to do..." (Y/N) mutters, her head on Penelope's lap as they're in the Queen's Quarters, they're meant to start another lesson, but they've postpone it for now.

"It's a difficult situation, isn't it?" Penelope replied, gently stroking her hair. "You want to be honest with Telemachus, but you fear how he would react to the truth."

"Don't you hate me, Mother? How Poseidon was the reason why it took your husband to get home 10 more years after the war?." (Y/N) asked in worry, tearing up at her.

"Oh, my dear child," Penelope's tone was tender as she gently wiped away (Y/N)'s tears. "I could never hate you. You are not responsible for the actions of your father. You deserve love and acceptance just like anyone else."

"But...I'm scared to tell Telemachus." (Y/N) professes, leaning onto the comforting woman's hand.

"I'm scared of how he'll react, will he look at me with disdain, blame me for Poseidon's action, or be disgusted for bedding a monster." (Y/N) ponders, tears streaming from her eyes.

"Shhh," Penelope hushes her, gently stroking her hair again. "You cannot control what Telemachus will think or feel when he learns the truth. But if he truly loves you, he will see past your heritage and understand that you are your own person, separate from the actions of your father."

She gave (Y/N) a reassuring smile. "I have faith in Telemachus. He is a good man, and he has already shown how much he cares for you."

"But...what about your husband?." (Y/N) frowns once more, looking onto the ground.

"He might end our engagement..."

Penelope chuckles, a fond smile tugging at her lips. "(Y/N), did you truly think Telemachus would allow anything to come between him and you? He is practically obsessed with you. He would fight off an army of Cyclopes if it meant keeping you safe and by his side."

"But...He practically idolized his Father, he just had the chance to get to know him, I don't want to get in the way of it." (Y/N) added with a worried look.

Penelope shook her head, placing a gentle hand on Egeria's shoulder.

"You're not going to get in the way of anything. Telemachus loves you, and that won't change once he learns about your heritage. Yes, he idolized his father, and he still does to an extent, but he is his own person now.

"He's grown up, had his own experiences and formed his own opinions and values. He's not going to simply abandon you because of something you have no control over."

(Y/N) looks at her, speechless, before she could say something to Penelope, someone knocked at the door.

Penelope looked at (Y/N) fondly before turning toward the door. "Come in." she called out gently.

(Y/N) wiped away her tears, trying to look halfway decent.

A servant entered the room.

"Queen Penelope, King Odysseus is requesting Lady (Y/N)'s presence." The servant relays, shocking (Y/N).

"Very well. (Y/N), it seems the King wants to speak with you." Penelope gently nudged her.

(Y/N) could only look at Penelope in worry, before following the servant.

As (Y/N) followed the servant through the palace halls, her mind raced with anxiety and questions. What could Odysseus possibly want to talk to her about? Was it about Telemachus?

Finally, they reached Odysseus's study, and the servant opened the door, gesturing for her to enter

As (Y/N) entered the room, she noticed how very different it was to the Queen's Quarters, weapons, maps, and armour, she could almost hear their stories.

Odysseus was sitting at his desk, shuffling through some maps and documents. He looked up as (Y/N) entered, his gaze sharp.

"Close the door." He commanded the servant.

The heavy oak door shut with a resounding thud, leaving (Y/N) alone with Odysseus.

(Y/N) stood in the middle of his study, holding her hands in front of her.

"You wished to see me, Sir?" (Y/N) asked, a bit nervous

Odysseus leaned back in his chair, studying (Y/N) intently. "Yes, I did. Have a seat."

He gestured to the chair across from his desk, his expression unreadable.

As (Y/N) sat in front of Odysseus, on his desk is a Latrunculi board with it's pieces in place, making (Y/N) curious.

As she looked down at the Latrunculi board on the desk, she couldn't help but wonder why it was there. The game was a strategic one that required foresight and planning.

Odysseus noticed her gaze and a half smile played across his lips.

"Do you play Latrunculi?" He asked, his tone almost casual.

"My Aunt taught me, as well as I had a few games with my...Cousins" (Y/N) answers, a bit reluctantly

Odysseus nodded, noticing (Y/N)'s hesitation.

"Ah, so you have some experience with strategy and tactics, then." he said, leaning back in his chair. "You see, this game is not just about making random moves. It's about understanding your opponent, anticipating their moves, and making calculated decisions."

He gestured towards the board. "The pieces may appear small, but their positions and moves have a significant impact on the outcome of the game. Each choice you make can either bring you closer to victory or lead you to defeat."

Odysseus leaned forward, a gleam of challenge in his eyes. "I have a proposal. Would you like to play a game of Latrunculi with me?"

"Of course sir, do excuse me for I'm a bit rusty." (Y/N) admits with a nervous smile.

Odysseus chuckled, gesturing to the board. "Oh, don't worry about it. I'm in the mood for a game myself."

He moved a piece on the board, making what seemed to be a bold but well-placed opening move. "Your move."

(Y/N) moves a man as her starting move

Odysseus watched as (Y/N) made her move, his eyes narrowing in thought. He studied the board for a moment, considering his options.

"Not a bad opening move," he commented with a hint of surprise in his tone. "Looks like you remember a thing or two about the game."

"It's only a start, Sir." (Y/N) points out with a smile, before moving another man.

Odysseus nodded, his expression focused as he considered his next move.

"Indeed, the game is only beginning." He studied the board, his mind working to anticipate (Y/N)'s strategy. After a moment, he moved one of his men, initiating a counterattack.

(Y/N) noticed his moves, before doing the unexpected, moving her Dux (General), early in the game, trapping and capturing two of his men at once.

Odysseus's eyes widened in surprise at her unexpected move. He had not anticipated her making such a bold and strategic play so early in the game.

"Well, look at you," he said with a hint of admiration, "that was quite a risky move. And it looks like it paid off. You just captured two of my men in one turn."

"It was only a quick strategy, Sir." (Y/N) smiled sheepishly.

Odysseus chuckled, shaking his head.

"You're being too modest. That was more than just a 'quick strategy.' It was a well-calculated move, and it left me two pieces down."

He studied the board, taking stock of his remaining pieces and formulating a plan.

"You're quite the competitor, aren't you?" Odysseus said with a hint of respect in his tone as he continued to study the board. "We're only a few moves in, and you're already putting me at a disadvantage."

Odysseus's expression turned serious as he focused on the board, his eyes scanning the pieces. He made his next move, a strategic one that not only defended his remaining men but also threatened (Y/N)'s.

Odysseus continued his assault, carefully maneuvering his men around (Y/N)'s, boxing her in and limiting her options. He was a skilled player, and he was determined to turn the tables on her.

"You see, in the game of Latrunculi, as in life, it's not just about making the moves that feel good or seem easy. It's about being able to adapt, to think several steps ahead, and to make sacrifices when necessary.

"You can't be afraid to take risks, even if it means losing a few pieces along the way. Sometimes, the most strategic move is to sacrifice a man to capture the Dux."

(Y/N) tries to navigate her troupe, backing her Dux and spreading out her men, but before she knew it, she's already in a corner, with Odysseus's own men and Dux cornering her.

"I knew I was rusty." (Y/N) sighs in defeat.

Odysseus chuckled, pleased with his victory.

"You played well, considering how 'rusty' you claim to be," he said with a smirk. "But you made a crucial mistake. You let yourself get cornered, and once you're corned in this game, it's difficult to escape."

(Y/N) looks at him in a bit of suspicion.

"This isn't about the game, isn't it, Sir?" She asked, ready for his interrogation.

Odysseus leaned back in his chair, studying (Y/N)'s expression. He could tell she suspected his true intent behind inviting her to play.

"Very perceptive of you," he said with a wry smile. "No, this wasn't just about the game. There's something else I wanted to discuss with you, something of a more...personal nature."

(Y/N)'s heart skipped a beat, her curiosity piqued. She had a feeling she knew what he wanted to talk about, but she remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

"I won't beat around the bush," Odysseus said bluntly, his gaze fixed on (Y/N). "I've noticed the way my son looks at you, the way he hangs on your every word. He's enamored with you, that much is clear. And as his father, I feel it's my responsibility to look out for him, to make sure he's not making any mistakes."

"I understand, As his bethrode I'll answer every question you ask to the best of my abilities." (Y/N) answers, her hands on her lap.

Odysseus's expression softened slightly, appreciating her sincerity. He leans forward, placing his hands on the desk.

"Good," he said, nodding. "That's what I wanted to hear. But before we get into that, I need to know for certain. Are you truly fond of Telemachus? Is your affection for him genuine?"

"Honestly sir, I didn't know how I lived before him, but he's everything I could ever ask for, his sweet, sensitive, thoughtful, and caring, a rarity among men, I'd lose my mind if I lost him." (Y/N) answers honestly with a blush (🙃)

Odysseus studied (Y/N)'s face, searching for any hint of insincerity. But all he saw was honesty and a genuine affection in her eyes. He could tell that she cared deeply for Telemachus, and it brought a small measure of reassurance to him as a father.

A wave of nostalgia washed over him. Her words reminded him of the younger version of himself, hopelessly in love with Penelope and willing to do anything for her. He couldn't help but see the similarities and feel a strange sense of familiarity.

"Your affection for my son, it's..." Odysseus trailed off for a moment before continuing, his gaze softening. "It's almost a mirror image of how I felt about his Mother, years ago. It's hard to deny that you genuinely care for him."

"Oh..." (Y/N) blushes, looking onto the ground shyly.

Odysseus chuckled softly, noticing her bashfulness.

"No need to be embarrassed," he said with a small smile. "It's a good thing, you know. Caring for someone deeply is a powerful feeling, and it can make all the difference in life."

His expression turned more serious.

"But, love and affection aside, there's another aspect I need to discuss with you."

(Y/N) looked up, her curiosity piqued once more. She had an idea of what he was going to ask next, but she waited for him to continue, mentally bracing herself.

"Your past," Odysseus began, his eyes fixed on her. "I know you haven't always been forthcoming about it, and there are things you've kept from Telemachus."

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

"I need to know the truth. Who are you really, (Y/N)? And what are you hiding?"

(Y/N)'s smile tightens, her eye twitching before coughing, dismissing her nervousness "W-well, Sir, as I've said before on our first meeting, I was born in Gibraltar under my Mother's care before her health declined, so my Aunt took me in and brought me to Athens, she's also a Teacher so she taught me everything I know, along with the different specialties of my Cousin, but my Aunt still has her own plights, as much as I want to stay with her, my Uncle, her husband, let's just say he isn't very...loyal, she already has too many on her plate so I decided I wanted to live on my own, in solitude.

Ithaca was the first choice with the lush greens and surrounded by water, but I later realized it wasn't that isolated..." (Y/N) tells her story, albeit vaguely.

Odysseus listened intently to (Y/N)'s story, his gaze sharp and observant. There were certain details and holes in her story that he picked up on, but he decided to focus on one particular thing she mentioned.

"You didn't mention your Father," he said quietly, his tone almost accusatory. "Why is that?"

"The Bastard can go screw himself." (Y/N) mutters harshly, surprising Odysseus.

"I-i mean, he isn't that much in the picture so I don't know him much." She tries to backtrack with a sheepish smile.

Odysseus raised an eyebrow, intrigued by (Y/N)'s sudden change in tone and the venom in her voice when talking about her Father. It was obvious there was animosity there, but he couldn't quite understand why.

"You seem to have quite a strong opinion of him," he observed, his gaze still fixed on her. "Yet you say you don't know him much. That's a rather conflicting statement, don't you think?"

(Y/N) looks at him in shock, before looking at her lap,her hand tightly clenched.

"He forced himself onto my mother..." (Y/N) admits with a frown.

Odysseus's expression darkened as (Y/N) revealed the truth about her Father. His hands clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white. He didn't like the sound of what she was insinuating.

"You mean..." he began, his voice a low rumble, "He...assaulted your mother?"

"I was the product of her defilement, as a child, I watched her degrade, crying herself to sleep, and the bastard didn't even bother checking on her or taking responsibility, he continued his life as usual, while I had to watch that beautiful woman self destruct." (Y/N) mutters, glaring onto her own hands.

Odysseus's heart ached for (Y/N) as she recounted her traumatic past. The disdain in her voice was palpable, and he could see the pain and hurt behind her words. He couldn't imagine how difficult it must have been for her to grow up under such circumstances.

"Your Father is a vile man," Odysseus spat out, his voice filled with disgust. "He didn't deserve to be called a Father, let alone sire a child."

"I'm so sorry that I didn't tell you, Sir. I was afraid you'd think I'm not the perfect match to your son with the circumstances of my birth." (Y/N) mutters with guilt.

Odysseus sighed, his initial anger cooling down into sympathy. He could see the shame and guilt in (Y/N) eyes, and he knew that she had carried a heavy burden with her for a long time.

"You don't need to apologize, (Y/N)" he said gently, his tone kinder now. "I can understand why you would keep such a thing to yourself, especially given the stigma surrounding your circumstances. But let me make one thing clear."

"The circumstances of your birth do not define you," Odysseus continued firmly. "You are more than just a victim of your Father's cruelty. You're a strong, intelligent, and kind-hearted young woman. Telemachus is lucky to have you as his betrothed, and nothing will change that."

"I must admit," he said thoughtfully, "I'm quite surprised at how you've taken to Telemachus so quickly. Considering the circumstances of your past, I would have expected you to be more guarded when it comes to matters of the heart."

"It's also one of the reasons why I wanted to live in isolation, but your son...is so different, he's not brash, not proud, not cocky, his caring, kind hearted, sensitive...everything that bastard could never be." (Y/N) mutters, not even realizing she's already swooning in the thought of Telemachus, snapping out of her daze.

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to babble!"

Odysseus chuckled softly, amused by (Y/N)'s unabashed gushing about Telemachus. It was clear that she was completely smitten with his son.

"No need to apologize," he said, waving a hand gently. "You're in love, and Telemachus is a remarkable young man. I'm not surprised you can't help but gush about him."

He leaned back in his chair, a small smile on his lips.

"It's quite endearing, actually."

"But I have to ask," Odysseus continued, his tone becoming more serious again. "How do you think Telemachus would feel if he knew the truth about your past? About your Father?"

"I...I don't know..." (Y/N) admits, looking down onto her lap.

Odysseus was quiet for a moment, studying her expression. He could see the fear in her eyes, the worry at how Telemachus would react to the truth.

"You're afraid he'll reject you," he said bluntly, hitting the nail on the head. "You're afraid he won't be able to look at you the same way once he knows."

Egeria grew quite, biting her lip.

Odysseus's expression softened, his tone growing gentler.

"I understand your fear, (Y/N)," he said quietly. "But you can't keep something like this hidden forever. The truth has a way of coming out, and when it does, it's better that Telemachus hears it from you, rather than someone else."

He leaned forward, his gaze steady on her.

"You need to tell him."

"I don't know how, Sir." Odysseus's heart ached at the sight of (Y/N), the once confident and fiery young woman, now reduced to a trembling girl. He knew how much she cared for Telemachus, and he could see the fear in her eyes at the thought of losing him.

"(Y/N)," he said softly, his tone soothing. "I understand that it's difficult, but you can't keep something this important hidden forever. You need to be honest with Telemachus. You owe him that much."

"He loves you," Odysseus continued, his voice firm but kind. "And if he truly cares for you, he'll understand. But you have to give him the chance to understand. You can't let your fears hold you back."

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze still fixed on her.

"You're strong, (Y/N). You can do this."

She looks at him in shock, before sighing, smiling at Odysseus "Thank you for your advice, Sir." (Y/N) thanked him.

Odysseus nodded, a small smile on his face.

"Of course, (Y/N). But remember, this is something you need to do soon. The longer you wait, the harder it will be for the both of you."

He paused for a moment before speaking again.

"And (Y/N)?"

"Yes, Sir?" She asked, her attention fully on him.

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze still fixed on her.

"You're strong, (Y/N). You can do this."

Egeria looks at him, before smiling brightly at him "Thank you, Sir." (Y/N) thanked him one last time, before leaving his study, looking for Telemachus in the courtyard, training once more.

As Egeria made her way to the courtyard, she spotted Telemachus in the midst of a training session. He was drenched in sweat, his muscles straining as he wielded his sword with precision and power.

(Y/N) stood at the edge of the courtyard, watching him for a few moments, admiring the grace and strength with which he moved. It stirs something..sinful inside her, watching his sweat roll down body, every grunt as he swung his sword, but her fantasies have to wait at a later time.

Just as she was about to approach him, it suddenly...rained.

"What?" (Y/N) held out her hand, catching a few rain drops, before she felt something familiar in this brewing storm.

"No...it can't be..."

Meanwhile

Odysseus is in his study, cleaning up the Lactruculi pieces, before he noticed it started raining outside, this rain seems familiar, he looks outside the palace where it has the view of the beach...his heart dropped.

There stood...Poseidon.

Odysseus's heart pounding in his chest. Poseidon's presence sent a wave of unease through him, but he knew he had to face the god once again.

He steeled himself, taking a deep breath before stepping out of the palace and onto the beach where he found himself face to face face with the lord of the sea.

"Poseidon," Odysseus said coolly, his voice steady despite the churning emotions he felt inside. "What brings you here?"

Poseidon regarded him with a steely glare, his eyes narrowing in anger.

"You know why I'm here, Odysseus," he replied, his voice booming with authority. "Your arrogance and defiance has not gone unnoticed."

"But don't worry, I'm not here for you." Poseidon looks around, scanning the palace.

"Where is she?"

Odysseus's heart skipped a beat as he heard Poseidon's question.

"Who?" he asked, trying to hide the worry in his voice. He had a feeling he already knew who he was talking about, but he needed to be sure.

"A brat of mine who snuck into your kingdom, I usually don't care about any of them but this one's...a special case." Poseidon vaguely answers with a crude smile

Odysseus's gut twisted at Poseidon's words. He knew who he spoke of.

"(Y/N)," he muttered, but loud enough for Poseidon to hear.

"So that's her name, (Y/N)." Poseidon mutters in thought, pacing around on the sand.

"Good enough of a name, I guess, and I could only guess she didn't even bother telling you her story." Poseidon smirked, taunting Odysseus in his foolishness.

Odysseus tensed up, but he tried to keep his composure. He knew what Poseidon was doing, but he couldn't let his anger get the better of him.

"She's under my protection now," Odysseus said firmly. "Whatever grievances you have with her, you'll have to get through me first."

"Oh, I don't have any grievances with her, she's mine after all." Poseidon stated, before telling a chilling statement.

"I'm taking her now"

Odysseus's blood ran cold at Poseidon's statement. He couldn't let him take (Y/N), not after everything she had been through.

"No," he said firmly, his grip on his sword tightening. "You're not taking her anywhere."

Poseidon chuckled darkly, amused by Odysseus's defiance.

"You really think you can stop me, little king?" he taunted. "I am a god, and she is mine to do with as I please."

Odysseus gritted his teeth, his resolve steeling. He knew what he was up against, but he couldn't let (Y/N) bear the consequences of Poseidon's cruel desires.

"You may be a god, but I'm not going to let you hurt her," he retorted, his voice filled with determination. "You'll have to go through me first."

Poseidon smirked, his eyes gleaming cruelly.

"And so it shall be," he snarled, his hand reaching towards the sea, the waters rising and beginning to churn viciously. "You may think you stand a chance, but you're just a mortal, and I am a god of the sea. Do you truly think you can defeat me?"

The sea roared in fury as Poseidon drew power from the depths, unleashing a brutal barrage of attacks on Odysseus.

Before Odysseus could draw his blade, the gushing waters paused in place, stopping in front of him, before it burst into nothing.

"Enough" a cold voice orders behind Odysseus, as (Y/N) walked past him, the waters churning around her, glaring at Poseidon.

Odysseus was stunned, the waters obeying her command. He had never seen such power emanate from her before.

Poseidon's gaze hardened as he shifted his attention to (Y/N).

"(Y/N)," he said, his voice a mixture of irritation and...pride. "You've grown stronger."

"Spare me your adulation, it's disgusting hearing it from you." (Y/N) stops him in his tracks, glaring at him.

"What do you want?"

Poseidon's expression darkened at (Y/N)'s sharp tone.

"I've come to take you back, of course," he replied matter-of-factly. "You're my brat, and you belong to the sea."

"Why now? You didn't even spare me as much of a glance when I was under Hera's care, you looked at me with disgust, why should I believe I belong with you?." (Y/N) snapped back at him, the waters around her rising.

Poseidon sneered, his irritation growing at her defiance.

"You're still a mouthy little thing, I see," he grumbled. "I may have looked at you with disgust, that was because I wasn't ready to acknowledge you then, but now...I see potential in you."

"No, no you don't, I don't believe you, I think you're only using me as an excuse, because you can't get over the fact that Odysseus had bested you at your own game." (Y/N) insulted, continuing her glare of him

Poseidon's expression darkened even further, anger now blazing in his eyes. He was not used to being insulted, especially not by his own child.

"Do you have any idea who you're speaking to, girl?" he growled, his voice booming with authority, sending waves after her. "I am the lord of the sea! You should show me some respect!"

"All I see is a bastard who can't get over his lost, the same bastard who destroyed my mother." (Y/N) insulted once more, before stopping Poseidon's waves

Poseidon's anger turned to full-blown rage at Egeria's words, his face contorting in fury.

"How dare you speak to me like that, you insolent little brat!" he roared, his voice thundering across the beach. "You have no right to judge me or my actions! I am a god, and you are just a mortal, never forget your place!"

As (Y/N) and Poseidon clashed, their battle shaking the very earth. The water and the earth collided fiercely and neither backed down to the other. Poseidon was filled with rage while (Y/N) held a calm gaze.

Odysseus watched them from the sidelines, torn between worry and awe.

The sea raged around them, responding to (Y/N)'s control as she fought against her father's relentless assault. Poseidon was filled with a mix of anger and grudging respect for his daughter's power, while (Y/N) fought with a cool determination, never faltering.

But someone can falter it.

Telemachus sprinted towards the beach, panic etched on his face as he saw the intense battle unfolding before him. Without hesitation, he ran towards (Y/N) and Poseidon.

Odysseus's eyes widened in alarm as he saw Telemachus rushing towards the fighting and he called out to him, "Telemachus! Wait! Don't-"

Poseidon looks at the running Prince, before smirking at (Y/N), his water arm grew in size, reaching for the Prince.

"TELEMACHUS!" Telemachus's heart seized in terror as he saw the water hand reach for him, but before it could grab him, (Y/N) pushed him away, taking the hand's grasp herself.

"No!" Telemachus shouted. "(Y/N)!"

"Get out of here! Please, I'll be fine!" (Y/N) begs, struggling in Poseidon's hold.

Telemachus hesitated, torn between the desire to run away and the need to help (Y/N). He looked at her, struggling in Poseidon's grasp, and his heart ached at her plea.

"I can't just leave you!" he protested, his voice filled with desperation.

Poseidon smirked at Telemachus's plea, the sound of his despair music to his ears.

"Oh, how sweet, the prince is for his princess," he mocked, his grip on (Y/N) tightening. "But you can't help her, boy. She's mine, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

"Why are you taking her!? She has nothing to do with you!" Telemachus screamed, watching her squirm in Poseidon hold, struggling.

"Nothing to do with her? My, She didn't tell you as well?" Poseidon taunted with a smirk.

Telemachus's confusion deepened at Poseidon's words.

"What do you mean? Tell me what?" Telemachus demanded, his gaze filled with a mixture of anger and desperation.

She watched him with a helpless expression, her struggles growing weaker as Poseidon's grip tightened.

"This one is my kin, my daughter." Poseidon shook her in front of Telemachus like a doll, as she could only look at him in shame.

Telemachus's eyes widened in utter shock, his mind struggling to process Poseidon's words.

"Your...daughter? But... but that means..." Telemachus's voice trailed off as he looked at (Y/N), a mix of realization and disbelief on his face.

"Is it true?" he asked her softly, his expression torn between confusion and concern.

(Y/N) looks at him in shame, tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, my Love." She apologizes, before being pulled away from him.

"Yeah, yeah, enough with the sappy sentiments." Poseidon rolls his eyes as she continues to struggle in his hold.

Telemachus watched she being pulled away from him, his heart sinking. He couldn't believe he had fallen so madly in love with the daughter of the king of the seas.

"No, wait! You can't take her!" Telemachus protested, trying to move closer to them.

"Why? You actually love this halfbreed of mine?" Poseidon waves her around in front of him like a toy, as she continued to struggle

Telemachus's face contorted with anger and helplessness.

"Yes, I do! She may be your daughter, but that doesn't change the fact that I love her!" Telemachus retorted, his voice filled with passion.

(Y/N) felt a jolt of surprise at Telemachus's declaration of love before looking at him with a mixture of guilt and longing, while Poseidon simply chuckled at the prince's words.

"Love? Ha! You think you love her? You don't even know her, you fool! You don't know what she really is!" Poseidon taunted, his grip on her tightening as he spoke, making her grunt.

Telemachus's face grew even more determined at Poseidon's taunts. He knew he didn't fully understand who (Y/N) was, but he also knew deeply that he loved her.

"It doesn't matter! I love her, and I refuse to let you take her away from me!" Telemachus retorted, his voice firm despite the fear he felt.

Poseidon chuckled at Telemachus's defiance, his expression growing sly.

"You love her, huh? Well, what if I proposed a little challenge then?" he suggested, his grip on (Y/N) loosening slightly.

"No! Telemachus! I'll be fine-" Before (Y/N) could protest, her head was shoved into the water hand.

"Relax, this one can breathe under water...I think." Poseidon mutters the last part to himself, as (Y/N) pounded at the surface of it.

Telemachus's heart raced at the sight of (Y/N) head being shoved underwater. But before he could panic further, he heard Poseidon's reassurance that she could breathe underwater. Nonetheless, Telemachus's mind raced with worry.

"What kind of challenge?" Telemachus asked, his voice shaky but resolute.

"Go to my own home turf, the Aegean Sea, come give your in law a visit and it'll be a leveled playing field, for me of course, if you win, She's all yours, and if you lose, I'll turn this halfbreed into seafoam." Poseidon challenges with a smirk.

"And don't even think about not coming at all, because I'll simply turn her into seafoam as well."

Telemachus's heart felt like it was going to explode. He was being challenged to a battle he had no chance of winning. But if he didn't accept, (Y/N) would be turned into seafoam...

"Fine," Telemachus agreed through gritted teeth. "I'll go to the Aegean Sea. But if I win, you let (Y/N) go."

(Y/N) banged on the surface of the hand, shaking her head, begging for him not to accept the challenge

"Excellent, that, if you win of course." Poseidon taunted with a smile, before slowly walking back to the sea, make his point.

Telemachus watched Poseidon walk towards the sea, his mind racing. He knew he had no chance of winning the upcoming battle, but he had no choice. He couldn't let (Y/N) be turned into seafoam.

Suddenly, with a dagger lent to her by Ioannis, she broke the water surface, screaming at him.

"Telemachus! I'm sorry I didn't tell you! Don't come for me! Please! Stay ali-" before (Y/N) could finish what she's saying, she already pulled into the ocean with Poseidon, disappearing into the seas.

"(Y/N)!" Telemachus shouted, his voice filled with desperation. The sight of (Y/N) being pulled into the sea, disappearing from his sight, was unbearable. He ran towards the edge of the shore, his heart racing with panic and helplessness.

"No! No! Bring her back!" Telemachus screamed, unable to contain his anguish. He was torn between anger at Poseidon and guilt for accepting the challenge.

Odysseus, who had watched the scene unfold in horror, pulled Telemachus into his arms. He held him tightly, trying to offer some comfort in the midst of the chaos.

Telemachus, still reeling from the shock of what just happened, pushed Odysseus away.

"Let go of me! I have to go after her!" Telemachus protested, his voice choked with emotion.

"You know you can't do that, my boy," Odysseus replied, his voice firm but filled with empathy. "Poseidon has her now, and there's no way you can fight him in his own domain."

"But I can't just sit here and do nothing!" Telemachus protested, his eyes filled with desperation. "I love her, Father. I can't let her be taken away from me."

Odysseus sighed, his heart breaking for his son. He knew how much Telemachus loved (Y/N), and the pain of being separated from her must be unbearable.

Odysseus took a deep breath and began to speak, his voice tinged with a mix of empathy and skepticism.

"Telemachus," he began, his grip on his son's shoulders tight but gentle. "I know you love (Y/N), but you have to consider the possibility that she may have been tricking you this entire time."

Telemachus looked at his father in shock, his heart clenching at the implication. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"(Y/N) is Poseidon's daughter," Odysseus explained. "It's possible that she's been playing a role all along, manipulating your feelings for her to serve her father's purposes."

"No," Telemachus protested, his mind unwilling to accept the idea. "She couldn't have been faking her feelings for me. I know she loves me, Father. I can feel it in my heart."

Odysseus sighed, his heart heavy with the burden of uncertainty. "The heart can be deceived, my son. You have to consider the possibility that her love for you may have been part of a ruse to manipulate and control you."

Telemachus shook his head, his expression pained but resolute. "I can't believe you're saying this, Father. (Y/N) loves me, I know it. I saw it in her eyes, I felt it in her touch. How can you doubt that?"

Odysseus placed a hand on Telemachus's shoulder, his gaze filled with compassion. "I'm not doubting your feelings for her, my boy. I'm just asking you to consider the possibility that she may have had ulterior motives all along. After all, she's the daughter of Poseidon, and who knows what schemes the gods have in store for mortals like us."

"What's going on here?" Penelope asked in worry, walking into the beach towards her husband and son.

"There was a storm and it suddenly disappeared, what happened?" Penelope asked once more, looking at Odysseus for answers.

Odysseus took a deep breath before turning to his wife. He knew he had to tell her what had happened, but he also knew it would not be easy.

"It's... complicated, my love," he started, his voice heavy with a mix of guilt and worry. "There was a storm, yes, but it wasn't a natural one. Poseidon was here, and he..." Odysseus trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

Penelope's face paled as she listened to her husband, her heart sinking with dread. She knew deep down what he was going to say before he even spoke the words.

"He took (Y/N), didn't he?" she asked softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Odysseus looked at his wife in surprise. He had been expecting shock, disbelief, even anger, but not this.

"How did you know, my love?" Odysseus asked, his voice filled with curiosity and a hint of suspicion.

"If so...then you must have known of her secret?" Penelope asked with a frown, her eyebrows furrowed

"...She already told me once." Penelope admits, looking at the ground

Odysseus's eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't expected his wife to know about (Y/N)'s true identity, but here she was, confessing that she already knew.

"You knew this entire time?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of confusion and frustration.

Telemachus couldn't believe his ears. His mother had known about (Y/N)'s true identity and kept it a secret from him, even as he had fallen in love with her. He felt a mixture of anger and betrayal.

"You knew, Mother?" Telemachus asked, his voice filled with disbelief. "You knew that (Y/N) was the daughter of Poseidon?"

"Let me finish" Penelope raised a hand, trying to calm both her son and husband.

"Her Father is Poseidon...and her Mother's Medusa." Penelope revealed with a tight frown.

The news hit Odysseus like a thunderbolt. (Y/N)'s mother was Medusa, the woman who had been violated by Poseidon himself. Suddenly, everything made sense.

His expression turned somber as he realized the weight of (Y/N)'s situation. "So, the story she told me about her Mother… it's true," he mumbled to himself, the reality sinking in.

Telemachus's mind raced as he tried to process the revelations. He was still grappling with the fact that (Y/N) was the daughter of Poseidon and Medusa, and now he was hearing about her mother's tragic past.

He turned to his mother, his expression a mix of confusion and anger. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his voice tinged with frustration. "Why keep all this a secret?"

"I wanted her to tell you herself, but she was too scared, too afraid of what you'd think of her." Penelope answers at the best of her abilities.

Telemachus felt a pang of guilt and empathy. He understood that (Y/N) must have been afraid to reveal her true identity, given the circumstances of her birth and the reputation of her family.

"But why would she think I'd react badly? I love her regardless of who her parents are," he protested, his voice growing in volume.

Penelope gave him a sad smile, placing a hand on his arm. "Sometimes, people's fears are not always based in logic, my son," she said softly. "Even though you may love her and accept her as she is, she may have grown up with a lifetime of prejudice and judgement because of her bloodline. That kind of fear can be difficult to overcome."

"And you were the only one who had loved her wholeheartedly, it would have crushed her if you thought so differently of her, fearing for the worse." Penelope explains with a frown.

Telemachus's heart ached at his mother's words. He could only imagine the loneliness and self-doubt (Y/N) must have felt, believing that everyone would judge her for her parentage.

"Is that why she was so hesitant to tell me?" he asked, his voice tinged with sadness.

"She loves you too much to loose you, Telemachus." Penelope explains.

Telemachus nodded, understanding the weight of her words. (Y/N)'s love for him must have been so powerful that she was willing to keep her true identity a secret, fearing that it would drive him away.

"I don't care about her lineage, her past, or her family," he said firmly, meeting his mother's gaze. "I love her for who she is, and nothing can change that, that's why I'm going after her."

Odysseus shook his head, his expression hardening. "No, Telemachus. You can't go after (Y/N)," he said firmly. "It's too dangerous. Poseidon is a vengeful god, and he won't hesitate to hurt you if you get in his way."

"Believe me, I know that." Odysseus added, reminding Telemachus of his stories about Poseidon.

Telemachus sighed, frustrated by his father's protectiveness. He knew all too well the stories of Poseidon's wrath, but none of that mattered to him now.

"I don't care about the dangers, Father," Telemachus argued, his voice growing in volume. "I have to save (Y/N). I love her, and I won't let Poseidon have her."

"Your old man's right, Lover boy~" a teasing voice suddenly joins in, startling the family, it was Hermes.

Telemachus's eyes widened in surprise as Hermes, the god of messengers, appeared before them.

"Hermes?" he asked, taken aback by the god's sudden appearance.

Odysseus scowled at the god, not pleased by his sudden appearance. "What are you doing here, Trickster?" he asked gruffly.

"Just here to lend a helping hand, just like the old times, old friend" Hermes zips around Odysseus, pinching his cheek

Odysseus swats at Hermes, trying to shoo him away. "Stop that! I'm too old for your games, Hermes."

Hermes chuckles, hovering just out of Odysseus's reach. "Oh come on, don't be such a sourpuss. Where's the old Odysseus I knew and annoyed?"

"I'm right here, you annoying god," Odysseus grumbled, glaring at Hermes. "Now, can you get to the point and tell us why you're here? We don't have all day."

"Well, Young lad, It's your lucky day, because someone up above with high power has given me strick orders to help, and I mean it very seriously, she hates my guts and doesn't usual intrude in human affairs so consider yourself lucky." Hermes explains, a large grin on his lips

Telemachus's heart leapt at Hermes's words. Could it be true? Was he really here to help?

Odysseus's expression remained neutral, not yet convinced. "Help with what, exactly? And who gave you these instructions?" he asked, his voice full of skepticism.

"that's besides the point" Hermes presented him a bag.

"inside this bag are Brutus Flowers, its pollen and necter has the ability to render a god into a mortal, though with Poseidon being the God of the Seas, his system will flush out these out in lets say 3 to 5 minutes tops, but that'll give you enough time to defeat him, wouldn't it?" Hermes held out the bag, covering his nose with his chiton for good measure.

Telemachus's eyes widened, hope rekindling in his heart. A way to defeat Poseidon, even if just for a few minutes. It was a chance, a glimmer of hope.

Odysseus's initial skepticism began to fade, giving way to cautious optimism. He knew better than to trust the Trickster god at face value, but this was their only chance.

"Brutus Flowers," he mused, his voice tinged with a hint of excitement. "I've heard tales of their power, but I never thought I'd actually get to use them."

"Well you do need the help, correct? and I don't want to be gutted, so what do you say? Are you going to rescue your Princess?" Hermes asked Odysseus, before turning to Telemachus.

Telemachus was practically vibrating with anticipation.

"I'm going after her," he stated firmly, his voice filled with determination.

Odysseus looked at his son, his expression a mixture of pride and worry. He could see the fire in Telemachus's eyes, the strength and courage that would one day make him a great leader.

"Alright," Odysseus finally relented, his voice weary, but firm. "We'll do it. We'll use the Brutus Flowers to take down Poseidon."

Odysseus's decision to join Telemachus surprised even himself. He hadn't intended on accompanying him on this dangerous mission.

"I can't let you go alone, boy," Odysseus said, his voice heavy with resignation. "I may be a bit slower and older, but I still have some fight left in me."

Telemachus felt a wave of gratitude towards his father. He knew that Odysseus was taking a risk by joining him, and it meant a lot to him that his father believed in him enough to do so.

"Thank you, Father," Telemachus said quietly, his voice filled with a mix of relief and determination. "We'll get (Y/N) back, together."

"Yes, yes, family and all, anyways, you might want to say something to the missus before embarking on this fight." Hermes points out to Penelope, who looks at them with a frown

Odysseus and Telemachus both turn to look at Penelope, her expression a mix of worry and resignation. They knew they were asking a lot of her, to let them go on this dangerous quest.

Odysseus approached his wife, taking her hand in his. "Penelope, my love," he said softly, his voice tinged with regret. "I need to go with Telemachus. I can't let him face Poseidon alone."

"But...you just got here." Penelope teared up, looking at Odysseus.

"But I know...we can't let our son go on his own..."

Odysseus wrapped his arms around Penelope, holding her close. "I know, my love. I just got back, and I never wanted to leave you again."

Telemachus watched his parents, his heart heavy with guilt for putting them both in this position. He hated seeing his mother in tears, but he knew he had to go. Egeria needed him.

"We'll be alright," Odysseus reassured Penelope, his voice steady and calm. "I promise we'll come back, both of us."

Odysseus looked at Telemachus, meeting his gaze with a nod. They were in this together, come what may.

Penelope nodded, wiping away her tears. She knew there was no point in trying to change their minds. These were two stubborn men, both strong-willed and determined.

"Just...come back to me," she said softly, her voice filled with quiet desperation.

Odysseus placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "We will, my love. I promise."

Telemachus stepped forward, embracing his mother tightly. "We'll be back before you know it, Mother."

Penelope held him close, her grip tight. "I'll be counting the days, my son."

"We have to go now," Odysseus said softly, his voice tinged with remorse.

Telemachus nodded, understanding the weight of their words.

"Goodbye, Mother," he said softly, his voice filled with love and determination.

Odysseus took a step back, taking one last look at Penelope, before turning his gaze to Hermes.

"Alright, Trickster, lead the way." Odysseus said gruffly, gripping the bag of Brutus Flowers tightly in his hand.

(A/N: Are you catching these references I'm throwing?)

#epic the musical #epic the musical x reader #telemachus #telemachus x reader #medusa retelling #epic poseidon #poseidon #smut

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solardriftx · 6 months ago

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P:EG SPOILERS UNDER CUT‼️‼️‼️

just finished ch1 and I WAS ABSOLUTELY BLOWN AWAY. i have to yap abt my initial thoughts😭

….

- my crack theories were wrong but yk what im SO GLAD this is better than i could ever imagine

- DAMON AND DIANA YOU ARE SO REAL TO ME. she stood up for him when nobody else would. he stood up for her when nobody else would. damon, someone so stoic and logical, was moved to question such a seemingly open and shut case at the sound of her tears, at the impact of her kindness (in the pathos route ) AH😭😭

- the difference between eva and damon…is that deep down damon slowly started to accept others kindness…while eva chose to deny it no matter how obvious it was that some people truly did care.

- i am a SUCKERRR for characters like diana so highly driven by empathy that it is simultaneously their greatest strength but also their weakness. she feels so deeply for *everyone* and it’s what causes her to keep her chin held high even after everything, but the sheer savior complex that’s starting to develop makes me worry for her

- DAMON DAMON oh my god the first time he let his guard down and trusted someone even after scolding everyone else for doing so it blew up in his face. seeing him with tears streaming down his face at the sight of eva’s death (looking almost unaware of the fact he is crying), just to revert to blank shock afterwards, and finally harden into frustration and distrust—oh my god. like i really have to applaud how accurately they captured the behavioral nuances of being emotionally stunted

- the daily life segment was so charmingly written, highly elevated my opinions on characters i previously felt neutral about—namely kai and desmond. they are both very dear to me now. also as much as i somewhat dislike using the term “tsundere” to describe emotionally complex characters…tsundere damon was so real this chapter, very funny to watch

- on this same note damon allowing toshiko’s nickname for him while shooting down the others…they are the siblings ever

- i just really like how these characters try their best to intelligently approach the killing game the way actual people would. when tragedy strikes, it’s all the more chilling knowing you would’ve tried problem solving the same way

okay thats all for now. expect me to be insufferable for the weeks to come💜

#project edens garden #project edens garden chapter 1 #p:eg #damon maitsu #diana venicia #eva tsunaka #kai monteago #desmond hall #solarthoughts

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c0eu4 · 1 year ago

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OP81 | Valentine's Day evening

Summary: McLaren had the wonderful idea of revealing the new car on Valentine's Day evening..

Warning: a lot of teasing, blowjob but not that much described.

A/N: I'm not going to say that I'm back because it would be a lie. I know it's a bit random after not posting for more than one month. Take care of yourself 🫶🏻

MASTERLIST request are close

She climbs on his lap, straddling him. He lifted her dress up, rubbing his hands against her hips. She rubs herself against the prominent bulge on his pants, his fingers digging in her hips through her dress. As they were about to go further, Oscar's phone rang. He ignores it, turning it in silent mode. But his phone vibrates again.

He sighed, picking up the phone. She mutters an incomprehensible swear and Oscar gently pats her thigh, as if to remind her to be polite.

''Lando what do you want?'' His voice doesn't let anything show, so she moves her hips a little to make him react. He bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes, trying not to moan into the phone. She doesn't hear what the British is saying but it seems like he's annoying Oscar.

''Yeah yeah we'll be there in 10.'' He said, annoyed. ''Yes Lando!'' He hung up like that, Lando visibly irritated him. She tries to move her hips again, but Oscar puts his hand on her hips, stopping her.

''We have to go.'' He took her off of him, pulling down her dress. ''But I thought we had time ?'' She follows Oscar like a poor puppy who nobody wants to play with. He put on his coat and handed hers to her. ''Lando wants us to be here earlier.'' She puts on her coat. ''And you're listening to him?'' She takes her purse, checking that there is everything she needs inside.

''Boss order.'' He opens the door to her, following her outside and locks the door behind him. The cold of winter makes him shiver. He doesn't understand how she manages to be in a dress in the middle of February.

He runs towards her, putting his hand on her lower back. He opens for her the door of the car and closes it behind her. He sits next to her, behind the wheel and starts the engine. He started to drive, with both of his hands on the steering wheel because of the people everywhere in the city.

They finally arrive at the highway, allowing him to place his hand on her thigh. He caresses her thigh tenderly, his fingers drawing random patterns.

Eventually, they arrive at their destination, already surrounded by journalists around the car. Oscar comes out first, his hand leaving her thigh against his will. Journalists are already taking photos of him but he doesn't take the time to pose, preferring to go and open his beloved's door. He holds out his hand to her, she grabs it and easily gets out of the car. He closes the door behind her, his hand in hers.

She's not really used to McLaren events and all this makes her uncomfortable. He's used to it now. But it still makes him uncomfortable too.

Oscar dragged her towards the red carpet. They can't avoid it. Even if they would love. Eventually, they can breathe a little easier after the red carpet, the journalists cannot follow them.

But the people in the private room don't ease their tension completely. They look for their seat, find it quickly and place their stuff in front of their name label.

Hopefully for Oscar, he's next to Lando. Y/n, her, she's next to someone unknown. It promises a wonderful night.

''Oscaaar, my dear friend!'' Lando knows how to be unnoticed. ''I thought you'll never come.'' They sit down, waiting for the event to start.

What a long night for y/n and Oscar. The person next to y/n is so boring. She keeps talking, without letting time for her to answer. Oscar sees that she's starting to be annoyed and tries to help her by teasing her.

He rubs her thigh, going higher than normal. His fingertips wander throughout her inner thigh, sending shivers down her spine.

''Are you cold? Because if you are, Did you know that if two people are naked against each other, it's very hot?'' Y/n don't take the time to listen to her, trying to focus on not moaning.

She bites hardly her lower lips when Oscar talks to her ear. ''Wanna go to the bathroom, mh?'' Y/n stands up abruptly, heading towards the bathroom through the crowd. Oscar follows her closely, managing to grab her hand.

She locked them in a bathroom, Oscar pressing her against the wall in front of the door. He nibbles her neck, making her moan.

''You're so neddy.. my poor pretty girl..'' He bit down her collarbone, leaving a few red marks. Her hands tug at his suit and his hair, like she wants to be even more connected to him. The friction of his bulge in his pants against the crook of her legs drives her crazy, but she restrains herself from moaning too loudly.

He slams his lips against hers, their teeth collide. They laugh softly before Oscar kisses her again. His hands caress her body in every corner, making her feel good, ''Oscah, you're gonna kill me.'' She whispered to him, her voice as soft as music.

He sucked the skin of her neck, not worrying about the fact that it leaves reddish marks there. She lets it happen, tilting her head to the side to give him more space.

Suddenly, she grabs his hips and makes him turn around, pinning him against the wall. She tries to grin herself against him but she's too small to feel his now hard length against her needy pussy. She hastily undoes his tie and opens the first buttons of his shirt to bite his neck as if she hadn't eaten for several months.

He moaned loudly as she kissed that spot under his ear that he loves so much, his hands gripping hardly her hips, almost leaving bruises. She grabs his cock and kneads it through his pants, making him roll his eyes back, his mouth wide open in a 'o'.

''Y-Y/n! s-stop!'' He moaned in a high pitched voice, ''I'm gonna c-cum in my pants.'' He said, almost crying from holding back his climax.

She quickly gets on her knees, undoing his belt hastily and pulling down his pant and boxer at his middle thighs. She doesn't wait even more to take him in her mouth and in less than two minutes, his eyes roll back once more, his hot and thick seed filling her mouth.

She quickly cleans him with her tongue and lets him get dressed. He kissed her one last time, almost tasting himself on her lips.

They face the mirror, and that's when they realize they shouldn't have.

Y/n's makeup is ruined by the blowjob she just gave. Her hair is a mess, red marks all over her neck and her lipstick all over her mouth. As for Oscar, it's not any better. Her shirt is all wrinkled, lipstick marks all over his face and neck.

''I'm gonna kill you.'' The young man said as he started to panic, already thinking about all the scandal there is going to be. However, Y/n laughs at the situation.

''I have makeup in my bag.'' She looks at her man as she reaches her hand up and tries to arrange his hair.

''But your bag is at the table, isn't it?'' She nodded slowly and started to think of a solution. ''You have your phone?'' He takes it out of his pocket. ''Call Lando then.''

Oscar shakes his head as a no. ''No way he sees us like that.'' She giggles at his reaction. ''Oh c'mon babe. You prefer all the photographers to take pictures of us like that?'' The man sighed and eventually called Lando, who joined them with the bag of Y/n without asking questions. He knocks on the bathroom door and Oscar opens it for him and locks it right away.

''You save me from that girl, she can't stop talking I swear.. What you both were doi-'' He doesn't even finish his sentence as he burst in laugh, seeing Oscar looking at the floor and playing nervously with his hand. Y/n, her, grab the bag from Lando's hand, rummage throughout it and take out some makeup.

''Osc, come here.'' She ignores Lando's child attitude as he has a hard time to calm down. ''You both are that needy?'' He asked between laughs. Oscar approached the young lady and she started to apply a yellow base on all the red marks on his neck.

''wow, she literally ate your neck, mate.'' The British boy said as he looked at his teammate's neck. ''Shut up.'' Answered Oscar, his face red from embarrassment.

Y/n keep covering Oscar's neck, until all the red marks aren't visible anymore. She does the same on her neck while her boyfriend fixes his clothes and his tie. She also fixed her make up and her lips until both of them were like before.

''I can't see nothing.'' Said Lando as he observed their neck attentively. ''You're a pro of makeup Y/n.'' Joked Lando. ''I just have the habit with him.'' She teased him as his cheeks got back to red.

''C'mon Oscah, I know you're not that shy.'' Lando gently hit his shoulder as he opened the door for them to get out.

The three of them go back to their table, where they refound that one lady who's already annoying Y/n again...

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novaursa · 9 months ago

Text

Beyond Duty (marriage)

- Summary: Helaena refuses to marry Aegon because her heart was already given to someone else. You.

- Pairing: brother!reader/Helaena Targaryen

- Note: @kmassey08 , here is the part 2 I've promised you. 🙂

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Previous part: 1

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @literaturedog

The corridors of the Red Keep are eerily quiet as Helaena makes her way toward her father’s chambers. She can feel her heart beating wildly in her chest, every pulse echoing her nerves. This is something she has thought about for weeks, agonized over in the solitude of her room, in the quiet moments before sleep, when dreams of a future with him seemed both impossibly distant and heartbreakingly close.

She pauses outside the door to Viserys’s chambers, her hands clasped tightly before her. This is a bold step, bolder than anything she has ever done before. But she knows she cannot wait any longer, cannot stand by and let her fate be decided by others without ever voicing what is in her heart. She takes a deep breath, drawing strength from the memory of his smile, the warmth of his voice, the kindness that has always set him apart.

Raising her hand, she knocks lightly on the door. A moment later, the guard opens it, bowing low.

“Princess Helaena,” he greets her respectfully. “His Grace is within.”

She nods, stepping inside. Viserys is seated by the fire, a thick blanket draped over his shoulders despite the warmth of the room. His illness has taken its toll, his once-vibrant face now drawn and pale, but there is still a sharpness in his eyes, a flicker of the man he once was. He looks up as she enters, his expression softening.

“Helaena, my sweet daughter,” he says, his voice weary but warm. “What brings you here at this hour?”

She hesitated for only a moment before stepping inside, closing the door behind her. “I wanted to speak with you, Father,” she said, her voice steady despite the nervous flutter in her chest. “There is something I need to ask.”

Viserys gestured to the chair beside him, his expression curious. “Of course, my dear. Sit. What is on your mind?”

She moved to the chair, settling into it with a grace that belied the turmoil in her heart. She glanced at the flames, gathering her thoughts, then turned her gaze back to him.

“You told me I do not have to marry Aegon,” she began softly, her fingers twisting in her lap. “That I would not be forced into a union that would make me unhappy.”

He nodded, a look of concern crossing his face. “Yes, Helaena. I meant what I said. You are my daughter, and your happiness means more to me than any alliance or tradition. If you do not wish to marry Aegon, then you will not.”

She took a deep breath, the words she had been holding back finally tumbling out. “I want to marry Y/N.”

The room seemed to fall silent, the crackling of the fire fading into the background as her words hung in the air. Viserys blinked, his expression one of pure surprise.

“Helaena,” he begins slowly, carefully, “Y/N is your brother as well. This… this is unexpected. Why have you never spoken of this before?”

“Because I was afraid,” she admits, her voice breaking with the weight of her confession. “I was afraid you would not understand, that you would think me foolish or… or wrong. But I cannot stay silent anymore. I cannot pretend to be something I am not, to marry someone I do not love.”

Viserys’s gaze softens, the confusion giving way to a deep, abiding sorrow. “And what of Aegon?” he asks quietly. “He is your brother, too. He cares for you in his own way. This news about Y/N will wound him.”

She shakes her head, her heart aching at the thought. “Aegon does not love me, Father. Not in the way a husband should love his wife. He does not see me at all. We would both be miserable. I have seen it in his eyes, in the way he speaks. He would be as unhappy as I would, bound in a marriage neither of us desires. You did the right thing when you allowed me to reject the betrothal.”

There is a long pause, the silence stretching between them, filled with the unspoken pain of a father who only wants what is best for his children but does not know how to give it. Helaena can see the struggle in his eyes, the conflict between duty and love, tradition and the happiness of his daughter.

“Y/N is good to me,” she continues softly, her voice filled with quiet conviction. “He listens to me, cares for me. He does not laugh at my dreams or my thoughts. He treats me as an equal, as someone who matters. I love him, Father. And I know he loves me, too.”

Viserys sighs deeply, running a hand through his thinning hair. “This is not what I had planned, Helaena. You know the importance of our house, the need for alliances, for strength. I had different plans for Y/N. But I see now that I have been blind to what truly matters. I never meant to make you both feel as if you had no choice.”

Helaena feels a swell of hope, tentative and fragile, but there nonetheless. “Father, I know our family must be strong, that we must protect our legacy. But I believe we can do that and still be happy. Y/N and I—we can be strong together. Please, give us this chance.”

Viserys looks at her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers, and then he nods slowly, a small, weary smile curving his lips. “You are braver than I ever knew, my sweet girl. And perhaps you are right. If this is what will make you happy, if this is truly what you desire, then I will not stand in your way.”

Tears spring to her eyes, a mix of relief and joy flooding her heart. “Thank you, Father,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “Thank you so much.”

He reaches out, taking her hand in his, his grip gentle but firm. “You deserve to be happy, Helaena. I only hope I am making the right choice.”

“You are,” she assures him, her heart soaring with the promise of the future that now seems possible. “I promise you, you are.”

And as she leaves his chambers, her steps light and her heart full, she knows she has done the right thing. For herself, for Y/N, and for the love that will now have a chance to grow and flourish, unbound by fear or expectation.

The day of the wedding dawns bright and clear, the sky above King’s Landing an expanse of brilliant blue, unmarred by a single cloud. The entire city buzzes with excitement, the streets filled with people eager to witness the union of their prince and princess. Banners bearing the sigil of House Targaryen—red dragons on black—flutter in the gentle breeze, and the bells of the Sept toll joyously, their ringing echoing through the capital.

Inside the Red Keep, the Great Hall has been transformed. The long tables are adorned with garlands of flowers in crimson and gold, and the walls are draped in rich silks that shimmer in the candlelight. The air is heavy with the scent of roses and jasmine, mingling with the rich aroma of roasted meats and spiced wine. A hush falls over the assembled nobility as King Viserys rises from his seat, a proud, almost serene smile on his face as he looks upon his children.

You stand at the altar, dressed in the traditional Targaryen black, your cloak edged in deep red. A thrill of nerves runs through you, but it is tempered by a fierce, unyielding joy. Today is the day you have longed for, the day when Helaena will become yours, and you hers, in the sight of the gods and all of Westeros.

The doors at the far end of the hall swing open, and all eyes turn as Helaena enters. She is a vision of beauty, her gown a shimmering cascade of white and silver, her hair, adorned with delicate dragon-shaped pins, falling in soft waves down her back. Her face is radiant, her eyes bright with happiness as she walks down the aisle, her gaze fixed on you.

You cannot help the smile that spreads across your face as she draws nearer, your heart swelling with love and pride. When she finally reaches your side, you take her hands in yours, feeling the gentle tremor in her fingers, a reflection of your own nervous excitement.

“You look beautiful,” you whisper, your voice meant only for her. “Like a queen of old.”

A soft blush colors her cheeks, and she smiles up at you, her eyes shining. “And you, my sweet prince, look every bit the dragon you are.”

Viserys steps forward then, his voice carrying through the hall, commanding and strong despite his recent frailties. “Today, we gather to celebrate the union of my beloved son and daughter. This marriage not only strengthens our family but also reaffirms the bonds of love and duty that bind us together as Targaryens.”

He pauses, looking between you and Helaena with a rare, genuine tenderness in his eyes. “May your union be blessed with joy, with strength, and with the fierce, unyielding love that is the hallmark of our house.”

With that, the ceremony begins, the Septon’s voice rising in the traditional vows of marriage, the sacred words echoing through the hall. You and Helaena exchange your vows, your voices steady and clear, despite the emotion thickening your throats. When you slide the ring onto her finger—a delicate band of silver, set with a single, perfect sapphire—you see her eyes shimmer with unshed tears.

“I will love you always,” you say softly, your voice full of promise. “In this life and the next.”

She squeezes your hands, her smile radiant. “And I will love you, my dragon, until the end of my days.”

When the Septon finally pronounces you husband and wife, you lean down and kiss her, your heart soaring as the hall erupts into cheers and applause. It is a soft, gentle kiss, filled with all the love and devotion you feel for her, and when you pull back, the joy in her eyes is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.

The feast that follows is a grand affair, the tables laden with the finest foods and wines the realm has to offer. You and Helaena are seated at the high table, side by side, her hand resting lightly on your arm as you talk and laugh with your family and the gathered guests. The atmosphere is warm and joyous, the tension of the past few weeks forgotten in the light of this new beginning.

But of course, Aegon, already deep into his cups, cannot resist making a scene. He leans forward, a sly grin spreading across his face as he raises his goblet in a mock toast.

“To the happy couple!” he declares, his voice loud and slurred. “May their nights be as sweet as their words, and may our dear brother prove as... attentive as he seems so eager to be.”

The innuendo is clear, and a few nearby lords chuckle awkwardly, their eyes flicking between you and Aegon. Helaena’s hand tightens on your arm, her smile faltering, and you feel a surge of anger, not just at Aegon’s disrespect but at the thought of him making her uncomfortable on what should be the happiest day of her life.

You set your goblet down, turning to face Aegon fully, your voice cold and cutting. “Perhaps, Aegon, you should spend less time concerning yourself with my marriage and more with your own conduct. It would be a pity for your good name to suffer further from ill-chosen words and actions.”

The smile slips from Aegon’s face, his eyes narrowing as he realizes he has overstepped. “I meant no harm,” he mutters, his bravado wilting under your steady gaze.

“Then show it,” you reply, your tone leaving no room for argument. “Today is a day for celebration, not mockery. For once in your life, Aegon, try to act like the prince you are.”

There is a moment of tense silence, broken only when Aemond, seated beside Aegon, speaks up. “Our brother is right, Aegon,” he says calmly, though there is an edge to his voice. “Show some respect, if not for Y/N and Helaena, then for Father. This day means a great deal to him.”

Aegon scowls but says nothing, slumping back in his chair and reaching for his goblet with a muttered curse. Aemond meets your eyes, a faint nod of approval in his gaze, and you return it with a grateful smile.

You turn back to Helaena, your hand covering hers, your voice gentle as you speak to her. “Are you all right, my love?”

She nods, her smile returning, though it is a little shakier now. “Yes. Thank you, Y/N. For defending me.”

You lean in, brushing a soft kiss to her temple. “I will always defend you, Helaena. Always.”

The rest of the evening passes more peacefully, Aegon’s ill-timed comments forgotten as the festivities continue. The hall is filled with music and laughter, the joy of the day wrapping around you like a warm embrace. You dance with Helaena, the two of you moving together as if you were made for each other, the world around you fading away as you lose yourself in her eyes, her smile, her touch.

When the night finally draws to a close, and you escort her back to your shared chambers, you feel as if you are walking on air, your heart so full it seems it might burst. You close the door behind you, the world outside falling away, leaving only the two of you in the soft, intimate glow of the candles.

Helaena turns to you, her eyes shining with love and happiness. “I am so grateful, Y/N,” she whispers, her voice trembling with emotion. “For you, for today... for everything.”

You take her hands in yours, pulling her close, your forehead resting against hers. “It is I who am grateful, my love. For you, for your courage, for the gift of your love. I promise you, I will spend every day of our lives making sure you never regret this choice.”

She smiles, a tear slipping down her cheek, and you kiss it away, your heart swelling with love and tenderness for this beautiful, brave woman who is now your wife.

And as you hold her close, the world outside forgotten, you know, with a certainty that goes beyond words, that this is where you are meant to be—by her side, forever.

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #helaena x reader #queen helaena #helaena targaryen #hotd helaena #helaena x you #helaena x y/n #helaena x male reader

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ponderingmoonlight · 7 months ago

Note

Hello!!! Would it be possible to write for hatori sohma from fruit basket childhood friend to lover with a some angst and fruff at the end of

Thank you😊

aww okay we NEED to do this 🥹

Hatori Sohma realizing you're more than a friend to him

Pairing: Hitori x reader

Word Count: 3,5k

Synopsis: You were around since he can remember. You, the only sunshine in his life, that woman he never gets tired of looking at. It takes Hitori too long to finally confess his feelings to himself. And then he's about to ruin everything...

Warnings: hurt to comfort, friends to lovers, this is sooo fluffy hehe

Hatori Sohma is not a man who easily surrenders to the urges of emotion. The weight of his family’s curse, the pain of his own heartache, and the gravity of his responsibilities have forged him into a man who exists with quiet detachment in the shadows since that one fateful day. And yet, as you sit across from him at Shigure’s dinner table, laughing softly at one of Shigure’s ridiculous remarks, Hatori finds himself lost in thoughts he was never prepared to face.

You’ve been his friend for years - a steady presence in his life, like the moon hanging quietly in the night sky whenever he needs it. While others come and go, bringing chaos and change, you’ve always been there, offering your unwavering kindness and support. A warmth he has leaned on more times than he’d care to admit.

Still, he didn’t even dare to think about you as someone other than a friend. He’s always been careful to sort his feelings when it came to you, forcefully avoiding that little skip of his heart whenever he saw you.

Especially after Kana. Loving her, only to have the curse of the Sohma family destroy what both could have been, left scars he’s not sure will ever fully heal. He buried those wounds deep, vowing not to allow himself the vulnerability of love again. Not when it always means agony. Not when he’ll never live a normal life like all those other men walking around the world.

But lately, his heart has been betraying him, and today, watching Shigure lean a little too close to you while you laugh, it stings in a way he doesn’t know how to rationalize.

Earlier in the day, it was Ayame who started to chip away at the walls Hatori keeps so carefully constructed.

“I must say, Haa-san,” Ayame had declared, lounging dramatically on one of Shigure’s couches, “it’s almost tragic how blind you are to your own emotions.”

Hatori sighed, pushing up his glasses. He had little patience for Ayame’s theatrics at the best of times, and today was no exception. Why again this talk?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ah, denial,” Ayame said with a flourish, “the first stage of awakening!”

Shigure, who had been scribbling something in a notebook, looked up with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What Ayame means, Haa-san, is that you’re rather obvious when it comes to a certain someone.”

Hatori froze in place. Shigure and Ayame exchanged a knowing glance that made his stomach twist. Were they talking about…you?

“If you’re going to make a point, do it quickly,” he remarked, his tone colder than he intended.

Ayame smirked, unbothered by the sudden change of tone. Even though he’s so convinced no one knows, everyone saw the way Hatori looked at you earlier with that slight smile forming on his lips. Every one knows about that picture of you he keeps well hidden in his purse.

“The point, dear Haa-san, is that your little friend has managed to do something extraordinary.”

“And what’s that?” Hatori inquired, already regretting engaging in the conversation.

“She’s gotten under your skin. (y/n), I mean”, Shigure interjected smoothly.

“In a good way, of course. You’re different around her - softer, more… alive.”

Hatori frowned, hating the way his heart skips a beat how it always does when someone talks about you.

“That’s absurd.”

“Is it?”

Shigure leaned back in his chair, a sly grin tugging at his lips that usually means nothing but trouble.

“You’re a careful man. But I think even you can’t deny that she means something more to you. The question is, are you going to do anything about it?”

Before Hatori could respond, Ayame clapped his hands together.

“Oh, this is so romantic! The brooding doctor and his steadfast friend, bound by years of quiet affection, only to realize the depth of their feelings amidst life’s trials! It’s like something out of a novel!”

Hatori pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You’re both insufferable.”

Now, hours later, Hatori finds himself replaying their words. As much as he wants to dismiss their observations, there’s a nagging truth to them that he can’t ignore. He does feel different around you. You have a way of making the world seem a little less heavy, of making him feel seen in a way no one else does. Even though you know about his curse, despite the fact that you’ve seen him and other Sohma’s turn into animals countless times by now, you never changed your soft attitude towards him.

Just the thought of losing you, even to something as harmless as Shigure’s playful flirting, fills him with an ache he doesn’t fully understand.

“Earth to Hatori,” Shigure teases, waving a hand in front of his face.

“You’ve been staring at your plate for the past five minutes. Is something on your mind?”, you add with your brows furrowed in that way that glues his eyes onto yours in an instant.

Hatori shakes his head, brushing off the question. But when he glances up, he sees you watching him with a quiet concern that makes his chest tighten.

“Are you feeling okay?” you ask softly, your voice laced with genuine care.

“I’m fine,” he replies, his tone measured. But the truth is, he feels anything but fine.

The evening continues, with Shigure and Ayame carrying most of the conversation. You join in here and there, your laughter like a melody that Hatori finds himself clinging to. He stays mostly silent, his thoughts too tangled to untangle.

It’s only after dinner, when Shigure retreats to his study and Ayame bids an overly dramatic farewell, that you and Hatori are left alone in the living room. The atmosphere shifts, quieter, more intimate. You’re seated on the couch, your legs tucked beneath you, while he stands near the window, his gaze fixed on the garden outside.

“Hatori,” you say gently, breaking the silence. “What’s on your mind? You’ve been quiet tonight.”

He hesitates, the weight of your question pressing against him. How can he possibly put his feelings into words when he’s still struggling to make sense of them himself?

“It’s nothing,” he says finally, though the words feel hollow.

You frown, clearly unconvinced. “You know you don’t have to keep everything to yourself, right? I’m here if you need someone to talk to.”

Your words are a lifeline, and for a moment, he considers taking it. But vulnerability doesn’t come easily to him. Instead, he deflects. “Shigure was particularly annoying tonight.”

You laugh softly. “He’s always annoying. That’s part of his charm.”

Hatori’s lips twitch in the faintest hint of a smile, but it doesn’t last. The conversation lulls, and the silence that follows is heavy with unspoken words.

After a moment, you rise from the couch and cross the room to stand beside him. The proximity is both comforting and disarming. You don’t press him further, but your presence alone feels like an invitation—to let down his guard, to let you in.

“Do you ever think about the past?” he asks suddenly, surprising even himself with the question.

“Sometimes,” you reply, your tone thoughtful. “But I try not to dwell on it too much. It’s easy to get stuck in what-ifs.”

He nods, his gaze still fixed on the garden. “I envy that about you. Your ability to move forward.”

“You can, too, you know,” you say softly. “It’s not easy, but it’s possible.”

Your words settle over him like a balm, your voice so comforting that he forgets that numb feeling in his stomach for a second. He turns to look at you, really look at you. The way your eyes meet his, full of understanding and something else, something he’s afraid to name, something he’d never speculates about, makes his heart stumble.

“I’m not sure I know,” he finally admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smile, and it’s the kind of smile that feels like sunlight breaking through a storm.

What if you get hurt though?

Hatori can’t help but shake his head, breaking his gaze away from you. No, he can’t allow that to happen. He can’t come this close to you. What if he hurts you? Or what if you don’t feel the same way about him? Why would someone like you fall for him in the first place? You, known and loved by countless people, secretly admired by someone like Shigure as well. There’s no way you’d actually fall for him, right?

“You don’t have to figure it out alone.”

Gently, you place your hand on top of his. But instead of welcoming the warmth of your palm, he jerks up in his seat and leaves without saying another word.

The days following the incident were unbearable - for you and for Hatori, though he would never admit it out loud. He avoided you with a determination that bordered on cruelty. Every time you tried to reach out, he found an excuse to slip away. He didn’t answer your calls, didn’t allow you to visit him, didn’t even text you back when you begged for a single sign of life. Not even Shigure and Ayame were able to drag him out of this hole. Hatori hated himself for hurting you, for pulling away when all he wanted was to be close to you. But the fear of losing you, of ruining your life just like Kana’s, was just too much to bear.

It’s for the best, he told himself so often that he lost count on that little walk alone. Staying in his apartment meant getting reminded of all the times you visited him and sat on that one chair while sipping tea out of your own personal mug no one else is allowed to use. He needed to get out there, needed some fresh air to calm his mind.

Not even this warm summer day is able to comfort him, though. Not when every beautiful flower on his way reminds him of you, not when he imagines you in all those dresses displayed in the shopping windows.

Not when you’re standing just a few feet away from him with Shigure by your side.

Shigure and…you?

There you are, walking beside Shigure, holding an ice cream cone and laughing at something he said. The sound of your laughter, so free and light, hits him like a punch to the gut. Shigure, ever the charmer, leans in closer than necessary, his expression playful as he licks his own ice cream.

Hatori’s heart twists painfully, hands balling into tight fists on their own. He doesn’t have the right to feel jealous, no right to claim you when he’s done nothing but pushing you away.

But watching Shigure, so at ease with you, stirs something primal in him, feelings he tried to drown multiple times already. The thought of losing you - to anyone, but especially to Shigure – becomes unbearable.

Like in trance, he steps back, away from the scene that might make him lose his mind. No, he can’t feel like this about you, he can’t allow himself to be jealous when you’re not even his. All he did those past weeks was pushing you away. You’re not his, you’ll never be.

Hatori slams his door shut harder than necessary before gliding down the cool wood.

What is he supposed to do now?

-later-

You’re sitting in your small apartment, trying to distract yourself from the ache in your chest. The ice cream with Shigure had been nice, a kind effort of him to break you away from your train of thought, but it doesn’t erase the sadness you feel over Hatori’s sudden distance. What went wrong? Was it something you said, something you did? Was it because you tried to cheer him up by holding his hand that one evening? You didn’t really think about it twice, just tried to cheer him up when it was clear that he’s upset…

You can’t understand what went wrong. And it hurts more than you want to admit.

A knock at your door breaks through your thoughts. Did Shigure forget something or is he here to look after you. Maybe Tohru wanted to pay you a visit-

“Hatori?” you breathe out, your voice laced with surprise.

“What are you doing here?”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything while you try to process the stinging fact that he’s really here. He simply looks at you, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the courage he needs.

Then, in a voice thick with emotion, he mutters, “Can I come in?”

Your mind goes blank, lips not able to move. He’s really here. He didn’t forget about you. He wants to…talk?

Like in trance, you step aside, letting him enter. The air between you is heavy with tension as he stands in your living room, his tall frame seeming out of place in the cozy little space you can afford. You wait, unsure of what to say, as he struggles to find the words himself.

Finally, he turns to you, his gaze intense.

“I owe you an apology.”

“For what?” you mumble softly, though you already know the answer.

“For avoiding you. For pushing you away. For being…a coward.”

His voice is steady, but you can see the vulnerability in his eyes, the way his hands clench at his sides.

“I thought I was protecting you. From me. From my life. But I see now that I was only protecting myself.”

Your heart aches at his words. Is this really how he feels about everything? Does he really think he’s a threat, a burden for you?

“Hatori, you don’t have to-”

“I do,” he interrupts, his tone firm.

“Because I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending that I don’t…”

He trails off, taking a deep breath.

“That I don’t feel something for you. Something I’ve been too afraid to admit for a long time.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Is he trying to say that…

“Hatori…”

“I’m in love with you. I have been for longer than I care to admit. But I was so afraid. Afraid of hurting you. Afraid of losing you. Afraid that you couldn’t feel the same way”, he suddenly blurts out.

You stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest. This can’t be real, right? Did he really ignore you because he thought he’d hurt or lose you. Did he really just say that he loves you? Him, the man you’ve kept your eye on for years by now?

“You thought I didn’t feel the same?”

He hesitates, the doubt still etched into his features.

“Why would you? You could have anyone. Someone without all the…baggage I carry.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you step closer to him. Just the thought of him feeling this way, of him suppressing his feeling because of something like that…

“Hatori, you’re the one I want. You’ve always been the one”, you reply with trembling voice.

For a moment, he simply looks at you, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. Then, slowly, he reaches out, his hand brushing against yours before taking it in his own.

“You…really mean it?”

“Of course I do!”, you breathe out while clinging onto his hand for what feels like dear life.

“But I didn’t want to rush you, especially after those past weeks. I felt like you don’t see me that way. And after what happened to Kana, I wasn’t sure if you’d give me a chance…”

“I’m sorry for all the pain I caused you. I don’t want to run anymore. I want to be with you, if you’ll have me.”

You smile through your tears, wrapping your arms around his arm the way you always imagined. Even though you’re not able to hug him the way he’d deserve it, you pour your heart and soul in this little moment. That moment you’ve been imagining in your head over and over again. That moment that fell apart in your mind those past weeks.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

Hatori buries his face in your hair as the weight of his fears finally lifts. For the first time in a long time, he feels like he can breathe. And as you stand there together, he promises to himself that he will do whatever it takes to make you happy, to protect the love you’ve both found.

Because with you, he knows he can finally heal. Now he finally knows you're more than a friend.

Dividers by @saradikagrafics 🤍

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